Chapter Forty-Two
Two days had stretched into five and neither woman felt the strain of it. The second day, Nick had driven Mary into the local town. Mary wanted to go to church and pray for Michael.
‘They’re not one of those guitar-playing types, are they?’
Nick then had to explain that she didn’t go to church and wouldn’t know. Mary frowned but was slightly mollified to hear that Ari and Paddy did, although mostly just high days and holidays. Nick had to grudgingly accept that she also went to church on those days but made it clear to Mary that she didn’t actually believe.
Nick felt Mary looking at her as though she was a particularly recalcitrant piece of local legislation, but she held her ground and told Mary to call her when she wanted a lift home.
***
Four hours later Mary walked down the driveway and straight into the bath. Mary’s long walks became a feature of her stay, she would head out with Ohana for a small stroll whilst Nick worked across in the renovation. Then in the afternoon she would head out for several hours. Each time Nick saw her grandmother change. She looked like a person decompressing. At the beginning she would return with a blotchy face and red swollen eyes, but soon she started smiling and laughing more regularly.
Her grandmother was clearly walking her way out of decades of grief. Nick commented on it now as they sat beside the stone steps leading down to the once-formal gardens. The women had taken to eating their supper outside as the warm air made this a magical time of day. Now in the dusk, they looked over a meadow, as a barn owl glided in the distance looking for any little mice, bold enough to be out and about.
‘Where will you walk tomorrow?’
‘I don’t know where I walked today.’ Mary paused and ate some of her salad. ‘But I think I’ll start by turning left at the large oak rather than right. See where that takes me.’
Both women fell silent as they watched the barn owl make another swoop.
‘You enjoy walking then?’
A silence fell, only punctured by a bird calling in the distance. Nick wondered if she had somehow offended or overstepped the mark, when Mary replied.
‘I find that walking has changed this past week. I hadn’t realised but before, whenever and wherever I walked, I was always looking for Michael. I didn’t know I was doing it until this week when I stopped. I know where he is now. And I know through my prayers, that he can hear me and know the truth of his childhood. Now when I head out, I’m just walking, not searching. I feel a lightness in me.’
Silence fell again. Nick was glad that Mary was healing like this – she had no truck with her father being in heaven watching over them, as much as she wanted that comfort, but she wouldn’t deny Mary’s belief in it. Everyone had to find their own truth to navigate their journey through life.
‘Okay, I’m turning in. Rafe is coming down in a few days for a site inspection and I want to make sure everything is on track. ’
Picking up her plate and empty glass she headed back into the house, leaving Mary to watch the owl.
***
Something woke Nick. She had been dreaming of a great storm, the wind howling around the building, with the dead rising from the graveyard. Now she was staring out in the dark, uncertain if she was still dreaming. She listened, ears straining in the silence and then heard a bang from downstairs. That wasn’t a dream. She couldn’t hear Ohana, but would Ohana bark if there were burglars? What if they had hurt the little dog? Grabbing her dressing gown, she quietly opened her bedroom door and crept along the passageway towards the top of the stairs. The corridor was suddenly full of light and Mary stood at the other end of the hallway in a pair of pyjamas holding a hammer.
‘Can you hear that?’ she whispered.
‘Why are you whispering?’ whispered Nick terrified.
‘I don’t want to alert the burglars.’
‘Do you think they won’t notice the light?’ Nick was shaking. In London she always locked her doors, took care when she walked at night and always carried a can of mace. Here in the countryside she had let her guard down. Now Mary had alerted a whole gang of thieves to their presence.
‘Good point. Bugger.’
The two women looked at each other as they heard the sound of a chair leg being dragged along a downstairs floor.
‘They’re not very quiet thieves?’
‘Maybe they think the place is empty? Bang on the radiator there with your hammer, see if they react. ’
The metallic noise clanged through the otherwise silent house and there was a sudden commotion downstairs.
‘Bloody hell? How many are there?’
At that moment, a terrified moan called out through the night and Nick seriously considered having a heart attack. She had never even entertained the idea of ghosts and yet here she was in the middle of the night, in an ancient house, listening to the blood-curdling moan of a—
‘Cows. Bloody hell, Letta, I think the cows have got into the house.’
Mary rushed downstairs with Nick following sheepishly behind. When she reached the hallway, she was horrified to see large shapes moving in the shadows. Flicking on the light switch, Mary revealed the full horror.
From where she was standing she could see three cows ambling along the hallway. They seemed to have come from the kitchen and from the sound of it there were more in there. From their direction of travel they were heading into the sitting room, and by the sounds of it some were already in there. One of the wooden kitchen chairs was in the hallway and a large groove was etched through the rather worn wallpaper.
‘Oh Monty!’ sighed Mary, admonishing one of the long-horned cows. ‘What have you done?’
From Monty’s other horn hung a tea-towel. He swung his head in a slow, confused manner, in Mary’s direction.
‘I know, I know. Let’s get you out of here, shall we?’ Mary put her hammer down on the staircase and looked up at Letta .
‘Right. We don’t want to spook them, not in an enclosed space. Let’s stop any more from coming in and then carefully herd out the rest. We’ll use the patio door in the sitting room, so we won’t need to turn them around.’
Mary stepped into the corridor, then carefully passing Monty she headed into the kitchen.
‘Mary. Wait!’ hissed Nick alarmed. ‘You can’t leave these cows to wander amok.’
‘Tell you what then, I’ll go this way, see how they’re getting in and stop them. You go that way and open the patio doors. Try not to alarm them as you squeeze past.’
Nick looked to her right as another cow, with its long shaggy coat, wide horns and heavy feet ambled into the sitting room and decided to follow Mary instead.
‘Good choice. Now, mind where you stand, the girls aren’t house-trained.’
Indeed, Nick could hardly miss the smell of the occasional steaming brown lump. Her heart sank with the thought of cleaning it all up and she gingerly made her way down the corridor after Mary. The kitchen was a mess: pots and pans were on the floor, the table had been shoved to one side and one of the chairs was now only good for firewood.
At the far end, the door stood open to the night, and a cow peered in.
‘Angus!’ shooed Mary. ‘Away with you. The others will be out soon enough.’
Scolded, the cow stepped back apologetically as Mary closed the door.
‘Have you actually named all the cows? ’
‘No, I just give them names as I go along. I know a few by sight and if I stayed longer, I’d know the lot, but it seems rude not to give them a name. Now come on, let’s go and sort out the others.’
As they walked back along the hall, Nick winced at the mess. A few months ago she would have freaked out at the chaos, now it seemed like a daily occurrence.
‘You seem very at ease with them? I have to admit I find them a bit unnerving out in their field. Indoors, they are – well, they’re really quite big, aren’t they?’ said Nick nervously.
‘My folks had a farm, and I grew up looking after the animals. Turns out some skills never leave you.’ She walked into the sitting room and stopped in the doorway. ‘Oh dear. That’s quite a sight.’
The two women stood side by side and looked at the eight Highland cattle that had now finished their wandering and were lying down between the sofa and the chairs. As unfurnished as the house was there was actually just about enough room for them all, but the side table’s days were over, and there was a waste basket poking out from under one of the cows. Worst of all, Nick’s laptop lay broken on the floor, a hoof print in the middle of it.
‘Bollocks!’ Nick was about to dash in to retrieve it when Mary grabbed her arm.
‘Shh. Nice and easy. These ladies won’t mean to hurt you, but do not startle them. We can fix and replace a laptop; we can’t replace you. Now, let me think.’
Nick looked at her laptop in despair as one of the cows waggled her ears apologetically at her. ‘It’s okay, Molly, not your fault. ’
‘That’s the spirit,’ beamed Mary as she got her phone out and started to dial.
‘Mr Ferguson? Sorry to call you so early. It’s Mary O’Callaghan over at Parscombe’s. I’m afraid the electric fence has failed, and we have your girls milling around the place. I’ve got eight penned up safely in the sitting room. Yes. Sitting room. The others are milling around outside. I’m just worried because the end of our drive doesn’t have a cattle grid, they’ll walk straight out onto the road. Okay. Yes, I’ll put the kettle on.’ Hanging up she smiled at Nick, ‘If we still have a kettle.’
‘Are we just going to leave them there?’
‘Yep, safest place for them.’
‘But my laptop?’
‘I could try to fetch it for you?’
Nick looked at the size of Mary against the cattle and shook her head. They were in a strange place and no doubt spooked. As Mary said, there was no point in agitating them.
‘No, leave it, fingers crossed, it will be fine. I’ll retrieve the hard drive later.’
When the women returned to the kitchen, the kettle was happily working and before it had even reached the boil, the farmer had arrived with a few drovers. In the early dawn light the men began to herd the cows back down the lawn and into the meadow below.
‘Right then,’ said Mr Ferguson. ‘Here’s where the fence failed. Bloody bad luck. I’ll get that fixed this morning and get one of the men to stay here until I do. Now, let’s go and get your squatters.’
As they trudged back to the house, Nick prayed that the cows hadn’t done any more damage. Granted, this house hadn’t been modernised yet but still she felt like a caretaker and she was currently failing in her duty.
‘They’re through here.’
As the men walked into the room they gave a low chuckle.
‘Sorry, Letta, I shouldn’t laugh.’
‘Ah it’s okay, it looks like one of my sister’s more ridiculous photo shoots. Mary thought they could leave via the patio doors?’
A plan of action was soon agreed and two of the men stood outside ready to guide the cows out. Mr Ferguson then made his way carefully through the now-sleeping cows and gently opened the patio doors. The next part of the plan was that Mary and Letta would close the sitting room door and Mr Ferguson and his farmhands would coax the cows out and home. It was going to be a slow and careful process. However, as the doors opened, the cows smelt the fresh grass in the morning air, a hint of dew for their parched mouths, and they sprang up. Or as much as a tonne of weight can spring anywhere. In a hullabaloo of moos, they banged into each other and the furniture in a rush to break free. Grabbing Letta, Mary dragged her out of the room and quickly closed the door behind then. There was a thud on the door and generally a lot of lowing and then silence.
Mary cautiously opened the door and peered in the room. One cow was left, standing in the patio doors, reluctant to leave.
‘Come on now, Cecily. Out you go.’ Mary clapped her hands, and Cecily swung her huge head to look around at Mary reproachfully, then with dainty, careful steps she headed towards the open door where Mr Ferguson was calling her through. She sniffed the air, paused to empty her bowels all over Nick’s now-shattered laptop, then stepped out into the dawn.
‘Is everything okay?’ whispered Nick from the hallway.
Mary looked at the rather crumpled room and the steaming pile of dung. ‘The cows are okay. The room less so and I’m afraid I think your laptop is past recovery.’
Nick joined Mary and looked at her laptop in horror.
‘Yeah, that’s dead.’ She looked around at the scene of devastation and then shrugged her shoulders. ‘Cup of tea?’
***
A couple of hours later she and Mary had cleaned and scrubbed down the house. Rugs were drying out on the patio and some of the builders had helped carry out the broken furniture. Letta showed them the pictures on her phone and pretty soon they were circling around social media. A new laptop had been ordered and Pat, Mr Ferguson’s wife, had driven over with a load of food including two evening meals.
‘I don’t reckon you fancy cooking after the day you’ve had.’ Letta invited her to stay and join them, but she waved them away saying she had to sort out her children and left them to it.
The following morning Rafe and Gabe were due to come over and now Nick would have to explain why they were down a sideboard and an armchair. Hopefully, any lingering smells would have gone by then. Laughing at their adventures, the two women turned in and Nick wondered how things would be with Gabe.