Chapter 34
34
Owen had assured her down the phone that it was just a cold Wilbur had come down with, but Jess knew that in an animal that already had the odds stacked against it, a cold could be a serious thing.
‘I’m sure he’ll pull through, but I thought you’d want to know. I promised I’d keep you up to speed like.’
‘I’m on my way,’ she’d shrieked, hanging up on him before he could talk her round.
Logic told her Wilbur was a pig and she was being ridiculous, but logic had nothing to do with the swarm of emotions that had engulfed her upon hearing Owen’s voice and the news that Wilbur was ill.
She phoned Brianna for the second time that morning. It rang and rang, and Jess tapped her foot impatiently, muttering, ‘Come on, Brie, pick up,’ until, at last, she answered.
‘Hello,’ Brianna panted.
‘Can I borrow your car?’
‘Is that you, Jess?’
‘Yes, sorry.’
‘Bloody hell, I was on the loo – you know what my piles are like.’
Jess did indeed know all about Brianna’s post-childbirth five-years-of-hell piles but had no wish to get into a discussion about them at this moment in time.
‘And the phone rang for so long I thought something must have happened at school with Harry so I had to get off. I only spoke to you five minutes ago. What’s the emergency?’
‘Sorry, Brie, but it is an emergency. I just had a call to say that Wilbur’s sick, so I need to get up to Ballymcguinness again as soon as I can.’
‘Who’s this Wilbur? I thought your man’s name was Owen, and who told you that you have to get up there right away?’
‘Brie!’ Jess didn’t want a confab about it all – she just wanted to get up there. ‘Wilbur’s the piglet I told you all about. You know, the little runt like in Charlotte’s Web that I got to feed.’
‘Oh right, I’m with you now, sort of.’
‘Well, he’s sick, and I have to get up there. Christ, if anything happens to him and I’m not there…’
‘OK, Jess – are you listening to me?’ Brianna snapped. ‘Take a deep breath – in through the nose and out through the mouth.’
The sharp tone was an anomaly for Brianna, and it shocked Jess into doing what she was told.
‘Good girl; now take another one. That’s it, and again – one more for me. Right now, are you calm?’
‘Yes.’ No, she bloody wasn’t calm.
She snorted through her nostrils and exhaled noisily out her mouth, wondering why Brianna was using the routine she usually saved for Harry when he got a graze on his knee or stubbed his toe on her.
‘Jess, sweetie, I want you to put things into perspective. Wilbur is a pig, OK?’
‘I thought you, of all people, understood, Brie. He’s not just a pig to me.’
‘If you say he’s your baby, I’ll have you committed. Anyway, you don’t have to be Einstein to work out that it’s not this Wilbur you’re breaking your neck to go up and see. It’s a pretty convenient excuse if you ask me. Did Owen ask you to come?’
‘No, not exactly, and I don’t know what you mean about it being a convenient excuse – it is Wilbur I’m going up to see.’ Jess studied her thumbnail before beginning to chew on it agitatedly. She might have been playing dumb, but she had a fair old idea what her friend was implying, and maybe there was more than a grain of truth in it, but she was still hurt. Wilbur was so small and vulnerable, and he needed her to be on his side. OK, so her feelings for Wilbur might be seen by some as irrational – but not by Brianna surely? She could always count on Brie to take her side. So what if she was unconsciously misplacing her maternal instincts? She couldn’t help how she felt.
Obviously sensing she might have gone too far, Brianna suddenly backtracked and announced that yes, all right, Jess could borrow her car so long as she had it back to her that evening because she had a meeting to go to. Jess wasted no time and so, after grabbing her purse and shoving her feet into a pair of trainers, she slammed the front door behind her and headed for Bray.
It took her well over half an hour to get to Tara Street Station, and as she stared out the window while the scenery she normally adored whizzed by, she didn’t see any of it. She was too busy mulling over why it was that when you really needed to get somewhere in a hurry, things always seemed to conspire to hold you up. Like the group of American tourists she’d got stuck behind on the Quays. She’d had to bite her lip to stop herself from yelling at them to ‘move their fat arses!’ By the time they did and she made it to the station, the train she wanted to be on had just been pulling out and she’d had to wait an age for the next one. Now, it was with a sigh of relief that she felt the train slow as they pulled into Bray Station.
Jess spied Brianna’s familiar blue Golf Estate in the car park and was pleased her friend had driven down to meet her, as it meant she wouldn’t have a ten-minute jog up to her house.
‘Brie!’ She waved and made her way over to the car.
Brianna climbed out to greet her. ‘Hi. You made it then.’
‘I nearly assaulted a group of Americans on my way, but yes, I made it at last without causing them grievous bodily injury. I hope you didn’t have to wait too long?’
‘I brought my book so it wasn’t a problem.’ Brianna grinned, handing over the keys, and then looked shamefaced. ‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I had no right to pass judgement like that. It’s that time of the month, and you know what I get like. Pete always says I’m like Jekyll and Hyde when I’m due on. He reckons he can see the evil change in my eyes.’
‘I know where you’re coming from. God help anyone who tries to get between me and a bar of chocolate round that time. Besides, if it was you haring off into the wilds of County Down to see some piglet, I think I’d have something to say, too.’
The two women giggled and then hugged quickly before Jess slid behind the wheel of Brianna’s car. ‘Do you want me to drop you home?’
‘No, you get going. A walk will do me good. Exercise is supposed to ease PMS, isn’t it? Mind how you go, and I’ll see you tonight.’
Jess slammed the door shut and gave her friend a wave before sliding the gear stick into drive and putting the pedal to the metal.
She only slowed once during her journey, having been flashed a warning by an oncoming vehicle that there were Gardaí up ahead. She took her foot off the accelerator, and by the time she spied their vehicle half hidden on the side of the road by shrubs, she was driving at a sedate pace. A sideways glance as she drove past revealed they were far more interested in the contents of their sarnies than her. Good, she thought, revving up again. The last thing she needed was the hold-up of being issued a speeding ticket. She doubted the Gardaí would grasp the importance of getting to Ballymcguinness lickety-split to see a sick pig.
The rest of the journey was a blur of tarmac until she at last slowed to drive down the main street of Ballymcguinness. It was like Groundhog Day . There was Katie Adams chuffing on a ciggy outside the hairdresser’s and Billy Peterson arranging his fruit and veg outside the grocers. Old Ned was sitting on the wall, and he raised his stick as she drove past in greeting. There was something strangely comforting about the familiarity of it all, Jess thought as she wound her way out onto the country lanes that would take her to Glenariff.
Owen must have heard the car’s tyres crunching on the gravel – either that or he’d been peering out the living-room window in anticipation of her arrival, because he was outside before she’d even finished parking. She hoped it was the latter, comforted by the sight of his rangy frame clad in a familiar Aran jumper and cords tucked into his wellies as he strode toward her.
Jess’s eyes narrowed as something darted out behind him. It was Jemima. Arching her slender white neck, she fixed her beady black eyes on Jess and hissed.
Right, Jess thought, slamming the car door shut, in no mood for the snotty goose’s shenanigans. Two could play at that game. She met Jemima’s imperious gaze with her own flinty one and sent a mental message that if she didn’t watch it, she’d fix it so she saw her on her dinner plate this Christmas with lashings of stuffing and gravy. There was a momentary stand-off where you could have heard a pin drop, but it was Jemima who dropped her gaze first and, seemingly haven got the message, waddled off round the back of the cottage. ‘Just call me the goose whisperer,’ Jess muttered under her breath, turning her attention back to a bemused Owen.
‘What was that all about?’
‘Oh, nothing. Jemima and I just came to a private understanding, that’s all.’ Jess smiled sweetly at him, waiting for him to tell her he was glad she’d come. His face, however, had darkened.
‘You didn’t need to come all this way,’ he growled, and then gesturing at the car, he asked, ‘Whose is that?’
‘My friend Brianna’s, and yes, actually, I did need to come.’
It wasn’t the greeting she’d been looking forward to given she’d risked life and limb driving up here, and her own mood dipped. What happened to, ‘ Jess, thank God you came !’ followed by a tight bear hug from which he’d only break away to steer her over to the barn where they would talk in grave and hushed tones beside Wilbur’s sickbed. Huh! she thought, taking in his furrowed brow. It didn’t look like that was about to happen.
Trying to impress the drama of the situation on him, she told him, ‘Wilbur’s sick – there was no way I couldn’t come. I have to see him. Where is he?’
It was a stupid question, she admonished herself, beginning to head in the direction of the barn. Where did she think he would be – tucked up in Owen’s bed with a hot-water bottle, a thermometer hanging out of his mouth?
From behind her, Jess heard Owen mutter something, and she swung round, not quite catching what it was he’d said. By the look on his face, however, she was fairly certain she wasn’t meant to have either. OK then, she told herself, if that was the way he wanted to behave, he could sod off.
She picked up her pace – and promptly stood in something brown and squishy. She didn’t turn round to see whether he’d noticed; instead, she hastily scraped her trainer back and forth on the grass before marching onward.
Arsehole, she said to herself, as though it was his fault she’d trod in whatever it was she’d just smeared all over the grass. If he wanted to be an arse, well, that was his problem. Besides, it wasn’t him she’d driven all this way to see. Nope, she decided, pushing open the barn door – as far as she was concerned, Owen bloody Aherne could just stick his bad mood where the sun didn’t shine.
When she stepped inside, she was greeted by a cacophony of squealing from an overexcited mummy pig and her piglets, who were housed inside the first stall.
‘Hello, girls. Calm down. It’s only me, Jess. I’ve come to see young Wilbur again.’
They paid no attention and carried on with their ruckus.
She made her way down the barn until she came to Wilbur’s little box – positioned under the heat lamp – and, raising her eyes heavenward, asked that he ‘please, please be all right.’
She kneeled next to the box, oblivious of the hardness or the cold of the concrete floor as she reached in and gently stroked the piglet’s little tummy. She could feel his body trembling with the effort it took to raise his head to see who was there.
‘It’s me, Wilbur – Jess. I’ve come back to see you.’
He dropped his head back down apathetically and Jess watched his laboured breathing for a moment before sensing Owen’s presence behind her. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ she asked, her own voice tremulous.
‘Like I told you over the phone, I’m fairly certain it’s just a cold. There was no need for you to come all this way.’
‘Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? So stop going on,’ Jess snapped. ‘And what do you mean you’re fairly certain it’s only a cold? Have you not had the vet out? What if it’s the flu?’
A thought crossed Jess’s mind then, and her hand shot off Wilbur’s quivering stomach as though she’d been scalded. What if he had swine flu? All her maternal instincts were momentarily forgotten because – and this caused her to break out in a sweat – what if she now had it! She cast her eyes around the barn, half expecting the men in white space suits to appear, announcing they were now in a no-go zone and that the barn had been cordoned off until the risk of infecting the outside world had cleared.
Owen must have read her mind. ‘It’s not the flu. I’m not going to be responsible for a pandemic across all of Ireland, so you can relax.’
‘Well, how can you be certain if you haven’t had the vet out?’ she asked, her mouth setting in a stubborn line.
‘I do have some experience in looking after pigs, you know.’
Jess knew she’d reached a crossroads. She could continue to pursue the subject by stating that yes, he was a pig farmer but that didn’t make him a vet, or she could have a bit of faith in him and concentrate on why she’d come. She decided to let it go and turned her attention back to her reason for coming in the first place.
‘Come on, Wilbur; rally round, mate. Do it for me – please.’
‘If it makes you feel better, I’ve given him the equivalent of paracetamol to take his temperature down, and he’s been having plenty of fluids.’ Owen shrugged. ‘Aside from keeping him warm, that’s all I can do.’
‘What about chicken soup?’
‘What?’
‘Chicken soup – that’s what you’re supposed to feed people with fevers, isn’t it?’
‘You do know that Wilbur’s a pig, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I do. I only thought…’ Actually, she didn’t know what she’d thought. It was the shock of seeing Wilbur so poorly, that was all. She felt tears beginning to sting her eyes and was annoyed with herself. The last thing she wanted to do was show weakness in front of Owen. He wasn’t a tea-and-sympathy sort of a guy.
True to form, though, he decided to prove her wrong. and his perma-frown softened. ‘Why don’t we go up to the house? I’ll make you a cuppa. You probably need one after the drive up here.’
Jess swiped angrily at her eyes. Why did he always have to turn round and be nice just when she’d decided once and for all that he was a total arse? She stood up and picked off the bits of hay stuck to her elephant pants. He was right; she was parched but not quite ready to defrost. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ she stated with a formal sniff.
‘Aye, it’s no bother. A spot of company would be good,’ Owen replied, walking out of the barn without a backward glance.
Jess stood there for a moment longer, thinking back to the last meal they’d shared. He could have fooled her. And did he mean he liked her company or just company in general?
‘The man’s a complete mystery to me, Wilbur,’ she muttered, bending down to give him one last scratch behind his ear. ‘I’ll come back to see you in a little while; rest up now, little one.’