Chapter Thirty-Six
Darla stood back to admire her handiwork. Ever since she’d brought the escapee hen back from Elliott’s farm in a string bag, she’d been toying with an idea and thanks to a few spare bits of timber, some dowelling and a length of rope it was now a reality.
‘What is that exactly?’ asked Elliott, surprising her by wrapping her in a hug.
‘It’s a swing,’ she said proudly, leaning back against him.
‘For the chickens?’
‘Duh! It’s in the chicken coop.’
‘But they’re poultry. There’s a reason for the phrase “bird brain” you know. How will they ever work out how to— Well knock me down with a feather.’
They both watched as the most dominant of the hens flapped her wings and hopped onto the swing. Admittedly it only swung once before she came straight off looking more than a little startled by the experience. But she had definitely been interested enough to give it a go.
‘I figured it’s not the most exciting life being a chicken so I made them a swing. Ooh look – The Captain is having a go.’ The cockerel pecked at the bar of the swing until it swung back and bumped him on the head, making him squawk his frustration and stalk off.
‘It’s inspired.’
‘I know,’ said Darla happily. ‘I’m making a slide for the goats next. She held her cordless screwdriver aloft and revved it while pretending to roar like a lion.
‘Steady on, you’ll be taking over from Nick Knowles on DIY SOS .’
Darla stuck her tongue out. ‘How’s little Darla?’
‘She’s thriving but she still races to the gate when she sees me just in case I’ve got a bottle for her.’
‘Aww I think she likes to snuggle with you. I mean who wouldn’t?’ She leaned back into his embrace as they watched the chickens stalking cautiously around their new swing. ‘How’s everything else?’
That was the moment it looked like a barn had landed on his shoulders and his whole demeanour changed. ‘Manic. I don’t really have time to come up here, but you, Big Darla, are irresistible.’
Darla pouted. ‘Not sure about the Big Darla thing.’
He shook his head. ‘No, me neither. Sorry.’ He kissed her and she had hopes of some afternoon delight. She was about to lead him off to the bedroom when he pulled away. ‘Sorry, I need to get back to work.’
‘What if I come and help with whatever it is that needs doing? I’m pretty handy, you know.’ She held the screwdriver aloft but this time she almost dropped it.
‘This afternoon I plan to be scraping rot out of sheep hooves,’ he said with a wince.
That didn’t sound like fun at all. She pulled a face. ‘Err, is there blood involved?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘That’s a no from me,’ she said.
‘I suspected it would be. I might catch you later?’ He looked forlorn as he turned to leave.
‘There’s a gammon and veg in the slow cooker, so come up here when you’re finished.’
Elliott puffed out a defeated sigh. ‘It’ll probably be late.’
‘That’s okay. I want to talk to you about my plans to dominate the cleaning world. Well, Southampton anyway.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘You know, you don’t have to be a farmer. You have one life but you’ll not get the most out of it if you don’t live it the way you want to. It’s your life, not your parents’.’
‘That’s deep for a Tuesday,’ he said.
‘I’m serious. If it’s not making you happy, it’s a whole lot of hours over a lifetime to be doing something you don’t enjoy.’
‘And you like cleaning, do you?’ he asked with a chuckle.
‘I blooming love it,’ she said.
He raised an eyebrow.
‘I’m serious. There’s a real satisfaction of taking something grubby and making it pristine. I love my job. Jobs,’ she corrected. ‘And I’m excited about the new business.’
He frowned a little. ‘I guess you’ve found your thing.’
‘I think I have.’ She gave him a kiss. ‘See you later, when I’ll bore you silly about it.’
‘Can’t wait,’ he said at last, raising a smile before trudging off.
***
Ros had an enjoyable lunch with Alastair’s business associate from the golf club. The gentleman had a refreshing attitude to risk management in that he valued it highly. They discussed the role he was trying to fill in detail including the necessity for extensive travel as he wanted his risk director to be hands-on with all the global offices. They chatted about Ros’s CV and previous roles and also about sailing as he was in the process of upgrading his yacht, so Ros may have secured another client for Darla. Ros had no idea if she’d be called in for a formal interview but she was definitely interested in the role he’d described. It was quite a jump in terms of responsibility and salary, but she thrived on a challenge so she very much hoped she would hear from him in due course.
She got home to find Barry had messaged to say that as the party was on a fancy superyacht he thought it might be nice if people dressed up to make it extra special. Ros appreciated the sentiment but her wardrobe didn’t. She and Cameron stared at the mass of black and grey.
‘I see what you mean,’ said Cameron, rubbing his chin. ‘I always thought it was a cliché when women said, “I’ve got nothing to wear,” but you definitely don’t have anything to wear that fits Barry’s brief.’
‘I thought maybe I could wear this,’ she said, pulling out a classic little black dress.
‘When did you wear it last?’ he asked.
‘A funeral.’
‘I rest my case,’ said Cameron, shutting the wardrobe door. ‘This is the best excuse ever for a shopping trip.’
‘I’m not a big shopper,’ said Ros. The truth was more that she actively avoided it.
‘Well, you are today.’ He linked his arm through hers and towed her out of her bedroom.
Forty minutes later they were browsing in Westquay shopping centre. It was an unfamiliar place to Ros. Unlike most she’d not spent her formative teenage years shopping with her mum or trawling the aisles with friends for the latest fashions. There had been brief shopping trips with her father, which had always been pre-planned and targeted, and that was the approach she now applied for herself. If she needed new clothes then she ordered them online; it was a simple transaction that was straightforward and time-efficient.
‘Hey, look at these.’ Cameron was already inside a shop trying on sunglasses. ‘Try some,’ he suggested, passing her a pair.
‘I have a pair of sunglasses,’ said Ros, returning them to the stand.
‘But these are cool, right?’ He struck a pose and she had to laugh.
‘Yes, they suit you.’
‘You have a go.’ He passed her a pair. Reluctantly she tried them on and faced him. ‘Now that’s what I mean. Super cool. Look.’ He pointed at the mirror. Ros considered her reflection. It seemed odd to her that basically obliterating key features of the face, namely the eyes, somehow improved it. ‘You have to get those,’ he said.
‘I don’t think so. I rarely wear sunglasses and anyway we came for outfits.’ She put them back on the stand.
‘Okay. Outfits first but then we should come back and get those.’
‘We’ll see,’ she said, heading out of the store.
The first clothes shop they went into didn’t feel like her thing at all. The music was particularly loud and intrusive and the shop itself a bit of a maze and badly labelled. She was looking at a pretty floral item that was either a long top or an incredibly short dress when she got a tap on the shoulder. She turned around to see Cameron wearing a bright pink bucket hat and loud shirt covered in pineapples as he pulled a pose worthy of a superstar rapper. ‘How about this? I know, I need to get a couple of gold teeth but then I’ll be sweet.’
‘I’m not sure that’s what Dad had in mind.’
‘Fair enough. How are you getting on?’ He came to look at what she was holding. ‘That minidress would look amazing on you. You should try it on.’
‘I’m not sure I’m ready for something like that. I’ll keep looking.’
After two more shops they still hadn’t made any purchases. They left Westquay in search of some inspiration. The next shop had even more hats for Cameron to try, each with accompanying dramatic poses.
Whilst Ros found him entertaining she was conscious that they had veered off track. ‘We’re not really getting anywhere, are we?’
‘As usual, you are right.’ He removed the strange deerstalker affair from his head. ‘Let’s go on a mission to find at least one outfit from this store and meet back here in fifteen minutes. Deal?’
‘I don’t know—’
‘Fifteen minutes,’ he said, tapping his watch, and he darted off. With a shrug Ros began perusing the rails.
Fifteen minutes later, Ros was waiting back where Cameron had left her when what looked like a mobile jumble sale approached her. ‘Cameron?’
‘Thank heavens I’m in the right place. I can’t see a thing,’ he said from behind the mound of clothes he was carrying.
‘That’s more than one outfit and quite a few dresses. Are they your thing?’
‘The dresses are for you. Actually most of it is for you. You’re the priority. They’re quite unstable. I think putting the satin dress in the middle was a mistake so if you could lead me to the changing rooms I’d be very grateful.’
There was a pause as Ros shook her head at him, even though he couldn’t see her.
‘Er, Ros. Are you still there?’ he asked.
‘Yes. Come on then.’ She took hold of his arm and guided him through the store.
The first thing she tried on was a mid-calf-length black dress, the single outfit she had picked. When she stepped out of the changing room Cameron was already shaking his head. ‘No black. You have black. You don’t need black,’ he said gently, shooing her back inside.
She perused the items she had in the changing room, which were only a fraction of the vast clothes mountain Cameron had picked up because she was only allowed to take a few items at a time in with her. She wasn’t sure about any of them. Cameron’s voice called through to her. ‘Just pick one to try. Any one. It doesn’t matter.’ Was he some sort of mind reader?
‘Okay. Thanks, Gok Wan!’ she called back and she heard the fitting room attendant giggle.
By about the fifth outfit she was losing the will to live. She strode out in an orange dress with a heavy, swooshy skirt. ‘That’s the one!’ said Cameron, throwing his hands up in a hallelujah gesture.
She had to admit it fitted her well and felt good on but there was one overwhelming issue. ‘But bright orange?’
‘I love it,’ said Cameron.
She scratched her head. ‘I’ll put it in the maybe pile. I can’t try on much more.’
‘Okay.’ Cameron held up a hand. ‘There is one you need to try. I think it’s a good compromise.’ He went off to sweet-talk the assistant and root through the large pile of stuff they had left with her.
Ros tried not to get huffy as she got changed once again, but even she had to admit that the woman looking back at her from the mirror did look rather stylish. The dress was navy and cream, in a similar style to the orange one, but it went in and out in all the right places. It did make her feel a little special as she swished from side to side. She walked out of the fitting area and a few heads turned. She cleared her throat and Cameron spun around. He pointed at her. ‘Now you look stunning – that is stunning. Do you agree?’ He looked tentative.
‘I think I do,’ she said, feeling a little shy.
‘We have a winner! Get in!’ He made the same gestures he did when he was watching the football. She couldn’t help but feel a little special at his reaction. ‘Get that and then we do it all again but for my outfit.’ He grinned at her and she groaned. ‘Only joking, I ordered mine online while you were browsing in the first shop.’ She went to give him a playful whack and he ducked, so she chased him a little across the store.
‘Madam!’ called the alarmed fitting room assistant who appeared moments away from calling security.
‘Sorry,’ said Ros sheepishly as she skulked back into the changing room feeling as light as air. She’d never imagined that she would have such a good time shopping. Had she been missing out all these years or was it yet again simply the Cameron factor? That whatever she did with him she enjoyed disproportionally more than she would have done with anyone else or, as was frequently the case, on her own?