Chapter 6
The farmhouse
‘There’s a shedload of cows outside!’ Jack’s bizarre statement filtered into Beth’s unconscious mind. As a wake-up call – an alternative to the usual light birdsong interspersed with strident cockcrows, sharp barks from random dogs and distant drumming of hooves from passing herds of deer – it was very effective. She struggled to open her eyes. Having lain awake most of the night worrying, she’d finally fallen into a bizarre dream in which George Clooney sat on a sun lounger in the back garden. He was being served a cup of coffee by a waitress, who, weirdly enough, was a cow – an actual cow, not a person with a bad attitude. Meanwhile, Hugh Jackman pulled himself from an azure-blue swimming pool and patted his tanned, muscular torso dry with a towel.
‘Hey – Beth – did you hear me? There’s, like, a million cows outside.’
She peeled one eye open. Jack’s head, plus his bony shoulders clad in a frayed sweatshirt, poked through the half-open bedroom door. He was looking right at her, which was odd. He never usually looked at her, just vaguely off to one side.
‘The herds were sold off years ago, Jack. Fields, too. There are no cows.’
‘You reckon? Go see.’ His mobile phone was glued to his right hand as usual, but she saw he’d removed an earbud from one ear. ‘Cows,’ he repeated, then re-inserted the earbud and left, as if – having informed her of the problem – he was now absolved of any responsibility.
Beth rubbed gritty eyes and listened. The audible signature of a sizeable herd somewhere nearby went a long way towards explaining certain elements of her dream. Sighing, she sat up, swung her legs out of bed and pulled a pair of jogging bottoms from a pile of other abandoned clothes. Hastily shoving her legs into them, she hooked a hoodie off the same heap and stumbled from the room and down the stairs, one hand on the rickety banister rail, one on the wall to steady herself. The sound of mooing was much louder from downstairs. The grey flagstones chilled her toes through the threadbare rug in the entrance hall as she hauled the heavy front door open.
Shit. Cows. At least thirty… no, forty… probably more. They must have taken a wrong turn on the main road and poured down the lane to come to a dead end when they’d reached the farmhouse and barn. There was nowhere else for them to go and, more importantly, no one with them. Since moving to the country from the city, Beth felt she had adjusted to rural life really well, but this situation pushed her way out of her comfort zone. What the heck do I do?
‘You were wrong, Wolverine,’ she muttered. ‘Things aren’t getting better.’
The animals stopped milling about. Countless massive black-and-white heads swung towards her. Ducking back inside with undignified haste, she slammed the door and leaned against it. Cursing, she looked up to see Jack clomp down the stairs, swing around the newel post and carry on towards the kitchen, as if oblivious of the herd of heifers outside.
‘Oh no you don’t, buster.’ Beth dashed after him and pulled the white cable that snaked from his ear to dislodge the earbud. ‘C’mon, Jack. Help me. What do we do?’
‘We? This ain’t my beef. You’re in charge.’
When it came to cows, Beth discovered she wasn’t averse to begging. ‘Please, Jack. You know you’re good with animals.’
Jack retrieved his earphone and re-inserted it. ‘Have fun.’
The smirk that accompanied his words was a mistake. Something snapped inside Beth. She snatched his phone, pulled the headphones from the socket and shoved the handset deep into the central pocket of her hoodie.
‘Hey!’ Jack’s eyes darted in horror from her pocket to her face. ‘Give that back.’
‘After you help.’
‘No way.’
‘You owe me.’ Beth’s nostrils flared.
‘How come?’
‘Suspension. Yesterday. Remember?’
‘Oh man! You’re, like, so extra.’
‘Maybe so, but you need those cows gone as much as I do. Think about it. I can’t get the car out. Do you want to walk the three miles to the village? Better leave now if you do or you’ll miss your bus. If you help with the cows, I’ll give you a lift and there’ll be time for breakfast.’
Appealing to innate laziness and a growing teenage stomach was a dynamite combination. Confident she’d won her point, Beth hurried back up the stairs, calling over her shoulder, ‘Get dressed and be quick. We haven’t got all day.’ Not stopping to see if he complied, she hammered on Daisy’s bedroom door before walking in. ‘Daisy.’
A low growl emanated from the bed.
‘Daisy.’
The covers moved a fraction.
‘Daisy. Wake up.’
The top section of duvet was thrown back and a rumpled blonde head emerged, along with a venomous hiss. ‘What?’
Early mornings and step-parent issues were familiar dangers, so Beth kept things brief. ‘There’s a herd of cows on the drive. They need rehoming.’
‘Don’t look at me. I don’t do animals. Not this early in the morning.’
‘Can you babysit Grace?’
‘Your kid, remember, not mine. You look after her.’ Daisy pulled the duvet back over her head with a huff.
‘For God’s sake, Daisy, I—’ Beth took a steadying breath. Demanding that Daisy get her bony backside out of bed wasn’t going to work. She crossed to the window and yanked back the curtains. The surging mass of cattle outside in the half-light made her stomach heave. Averting her eyes, she forced a calmer tone to her voice. ‘Please, Daisy, either look after your baby sister or help your brother move the cows. I can’t do both.’
‘Baby half-sister,’ came Daisy’s muffled correction.
‘I’m not a baby!’ Grace’s outraged howl from the doorway made Beth jump.
‘Sweetheart, I thought you were asleep.’
Grace’s gaze bounced from Beth to Daisy and back, keen eyes sizing up the stalemate. Then the youngster hoppity-skipped over to the bed and lifted up a corner of the duvet. ‘’lo Daisy. Come play wiv me. Pleeeaase.’
Beth held her breath.
The mound under the bedsheets harrumphed loudly. ‘’K, kid. Gimme five and I’ll be down.’
‘Thanks, sweetie,’ said Beth. She left the room, Grace hard on her heels.
Daisy erupted from the bed. ‘Don’t… you… ever… call… me… sweetie !’
‘I was talking to Grace.’ Beth ducked, pulling the door closed on the seething cloud of teenage emotion. Something heavy hit the wood with a bone-shaking thud. Beth gave Grace a wink. ‘Well done, baby.’
‘Not a baby, Mummy. Amember?’
Beth bent to hug her. ‘No, you’re not, are you, my love? Sometimes, you’re wiser than all of us. Now, pop your dressing gown on, it’s cold. Mummy’s got to go and sort the cows.’ Grateful that at least someone in the house still did as they were told without arguing, Beth jogged down the stairs to dig out her boots.
‘I love cows,’ declared Grace, arriving at her side a moment later, wearing a fluffy dressing gown and unicorn slippers. ‘Can I come?’
‘They’re too big, Grace,’ came Jack’s deep voice. Dressed for the outdoors, he clattered unsteadily down the stairs, reminding Beth of a baby giraffe trying to stand for the first time. He’d grown so quickly in recent months it was as if his brain was still undecided about taking complete responsibility for his extra-long, scrawny legs.
‘It’s dangerous, Grace. Stay inside with me. Yeah?’ said Daisy, stomping down behind him and peering out of the window. ‘What do you reckon, Jack? Nick’s herd from Hilltop Farm take a wrong turn on the way to milking, maybe?’
‘Maybe,’ said Jack. ‘I bet he’s got Ned out looking for them already.’
‘Can we ring him?’ asked Beth, handing him back his phone. ‘Tell him they’re here?’
Jack glanced at the screen and shook his head. ‘No signal.’
Daisy checked hers. ‘Me neither.’
‘Blast.’ Beth sighed. If only I’d kept the landline . ‘What do we do?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ said Daisy. ‘It’s easy enough. Just get them moving back up the lane.’ She opened the door and gestured outside. ‘Go over to the mounting block by the stable doors and get up nice and high.’
Beth looked at the milling cattle in horror. ‘Is that safe?’
Jack examined the herd. ‘Looks like this lot are mainly young ones. Bullocks and that. They can be a bit jumpy, so no sudden movements, yeah?’
There was a wicked gleam in Daisy’s eye. ‘Don’t be a wuss, Beth. Use your common sense and go slow.’
Beth couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. ‘So, I get up high. Then what?’
‘Make a noise that annoys them enough to make them shy away.’
‘What sort of noise?’
‘Well, nothing too loud or too sudden, obvs… you don’t want them to panic.’ Daisy looked around her. ‘Uh, Grace, go get a big plastic bowl from the kitchen and a wooden spoon, will you?’
Grace dashed off, returning seconds later.
Daisy passed them to Beth. ‘Bash these together. Quiet to start, then get louder. They’ll move away from the noise and once one of them turns, the rest will follow.’
‘Where?’
‘There’s only one way to go, Beth.’ Daisy shook her head, making Beth feel stupid. ‘Jack can run out the back way, across the field to the main road. If he can get there ahead of them, he can make sure they head up to Hilltop Farm.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
Daisy tutted. ‘Look, just don’t make them stampede. It’ll be fine.’
Beth felt faint. Stampede? Shit.
‘Or are you too chicken?’ Daisy crossed her arms, the light of challenge glittering in her eyes. Beth swallowed and shook her head.
‘I’ll come with you, Mummy,’ said Grace.
‘No way,’ said Daisy, grabbing her little hand.
‘Sorry, kid,’ said Jack. ‘Not happening.’
‘Watch from the window, darling,’ said Beth. ‘Keep Paddy safe indoors.’
As if mentioning his name conjured him up, Paddy arrived, throwing Beth a malevolent stare.
Grace scrambled onto the sofa by the window so she could see outside and Paddy followed. She took a firm grip of his collar. ‘I’ll keep you safe, Paddy. Look at all the cows.’ She bounced on the cushions with excitement. Beth took a step closer to stop Grace accidentally choking the poor little dog to death, but Daisy beat her to it.
‘Guess what’s more interesting than cows, Grace?’ Daisy asked.
Grace stopped bouncing. ‘Err… unicorns?’
‘Yes, obviously unicorns. But what else?’
‘Oh, umm…’
‘Pancakes, silly.’
‘Yay!’ Grace dropped the collar to clap her hands. ‘I love pancakes! Can I help?’
‘Sure can.’ Daisy coaxed her sister off the sofa and towards the kitchen. ‘And afterwards, we’ll get dressed for school, okay?’ Grace charged off down the hall and Paddy scampered along behind. Beth rolled her eyes. The dog might be old and grumpy, but he wasn’t daft. Daisy was a casual cook at the best of times and food always found its way to the floor.
Beth stamped her heels into red wellington boots, grabbed a battered blue Barbour jacket and shoved her arms into the sleeves, before cramming the bobble hat she found in the pocket on her head. The bright red wool clashed with her hair but would stop her ears freezing off.
‘Ready?’ she asked Jack and reached for the door.