Chapter 21
The drive back to the farm was just long enough for Gemma to think of pretty much every scenario which might greet her, each one becoming increasingly alarming as she fought to keep her imagination under control.
But the situation revealed itself all too soon as she neared the turning for the farm track.
There were cows. Everywhere. The docile beasts which had existed quite happily in a field a little further along the road, and who seemed quite small and unthreatening when viewed at a distance, were now milling all over the road.
Big. And scary-looking. Wild-eyed and panicked.
And among them, looking pretty panicked himself, was a young man wearing navy-blue overalls and riding a quad bike.
She drew to a halt a safe distance away. Her car was elderly, and she was not particularly precious about it but, up close, she could see just how much damage could be inflicted if she got in the way of the cows’ enormous bodies and sharp hooves…
Wracked with indecision, she tried to put a call through to Leo, but the signal dropped out after two rings.
She tried again, holding her phone higher, but this time it didn’t even connect.
She was loath to get out of the car and yet she needed to get to the farm, and if the urgency in Leo’s voice earlier was anything to go by, she needed to do so soon.
The farmer hadn’t even appeared to notice her yet, too busy trying to herd the cows back up the road.
As she watched, two more appeared from behind the farm gate, followed by a sheepdog which shot out from behind them at speed, darting back and forth to bring them in line.
And then, slowly, slowly the jumble of animals changed shape, changed direction and began to thin out along the road.
It was as if they had sensed their missing number, but as soon as the last two cows rejoined the herd, they settled themselves, and with the sudden realisation that safety and familiarity were not far away, they followed the quad bike towards home.
Gemma drove on slowly, inching closer to the farm gate, but as soon as she turned into it she stopped again.
The way ahead was impassable, not in her car at any rate.
The track, always somewhat muddy after rain, a little uneven and bumpy in places, was now a churned mass of thick mud, the edges of the huge wet clods glinting in the sunshine.
She peered forward, wondering if there was any way she could make it through, when she caught sight of Leo a little way along waving both arms above his head.
With scant regard for her boots, she clambered from the car and began to run towards him, stumbling, not caring one jot if she fell over, just trying to get closer in the quickest possible time.
He came forward, holding out a hand, and hers met it outstretched, feeling the rough warmth of it, like a lifeline through the chaos.
‘What on earth’s happened?’ she asked, panting from her exertion. The mud had sucked at her feet, gluing her legs to the ground. ‘How did the cows get in?’
Leo shook his head. ‘We don’t know. Willow just went out this morning and found them. But Jesus, Gem, the damage.’
His use of the name he had always called her tugged at her heart, but it felt right there, fitting back into the hole he had left as if nothing had changed.
But his face… It reminded her of the bleakest day of her life so far, bar one of course, and she knew immediately where Willow had found the cows.
The destruction to the crops was worse than she feared.
She should have guessed how they might look if the state of the farm track was any indicator of what damage could be wreaked, but somehow she had tried to spare herself.
To hope that only one area had been damaged, that the cows might have simply walked through, automatically avoiding the cultivated areas.
But they hadn’t. One patch of ground was the same as the next, and they had shown no discrimination over where they had trampled.
What was perhaps even harder to see was the sight of Willow and Rowan picking their way disconsolately through the mess, all hope gone, disbelief and shock their only emotions.
Willow bent to retrieve something from the ground and, as she straightened, she visibly crumbled and was caught by Rowan, who held her shaking and crying with their world in pieces around them.
Tears burned Gemma’s nose, rolling down her cheeks as she pulled away from Leo’s hand and made her way towards them.
The greenhouses were upright but several panes of glass had gone.
The turned soil had been churned, and the plants, while sturdy and strong against most of what Mother Nature could throw at them, were no match for the weight of a herd of frantic cows.
They were torn and trampled, the crops ground into the mud by countless hooves.
Some small areas had survived the wreckage, as if a tornado had passed through, picking and choosing what to destroy in its path.
One plant obliterated while next to it, the other pristine and still bursting with life.
It was senseless. Violent. Heartbreaking.
She hung back, knowing that Rowan was providing all the comfort Willow needed, but it didn’t stop Gemma from wanting to help, to offer something, anything, which might ease the pain of the situation. What that might be, she had no idea. Where would you even begin?
As if sensing her presence, Willow drew away from her husband and half turned in Gemma’s direction. She held out a hand and welcomed her into a shared embrace, and all Gemma could think was that she didn’t deserve it.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured, over and over. She could think of nothing else to say.
She had no idea how long they stayed locked together.
How long before the first words were spoken and the words became sentences, became a conversation.
It could have been minutes or it could have been hours, but it was as if they were rousing themselves from a deep sleep.
She remembered the feeling from the day her dad died.
When Leo, broken himself, had broken the news to them of his death, and it had seemed as if he was speaking from a great distance, the sound of his voice reaching them but its meaning taking seconds longer to register.
‘Let’s go back to the house,’ said Leo gently. ‘We need some time and some space to process all this. There’s nothing to be achieved by standing and looking at it.’
Rowan nodded, firmly, grateful for a course of action, for anything that would get them out of the ruin. They hurried away, not looking back.
Inside the house, all was just as it always was – calm and tidy, its uncluttered and airy rooms providing space to breathe and think and…
a refuge, Gemma realised as she stepped into the kitchen, the place she now thought of as home.
The place where she felt able to make sense of her life.
But the house had a very tall order on its hands if it was going to make a difference today.
Leo automatically took down mugs from a cupboard and filled the kettle with water.
He found biscuits in the tin, and pulled out chairs for them to sit at the table, where they sank, relieved to have the feeling of something solid beneath them.
Only when they had tea in front of them did anyone feel able to speak, and it was Willow who broke the silence.
‘Maybe we’re not meant to be here,’ she said. ‘First the break-in, and now this. We’ve only just got back on our feet.’
‘Don’t say that,’ urged Gemma. ‘I don’t think there’s anyone more meant to be here. I know it looks bad, but there’ll be a way through this, I know there will.’
Willow gave a weak smile. ‘I wish I had your optimism. I’m afraid mine has all but deserted me.’
Gemma shook her head. ‘It isn’t optimism. It’s knowing when something is right. I feel it, and I know you two do.’
‘Whether we feel it or not, it doesn’t change what’s happened,’ said Rowan.
‘Or the fact that it shouldn’t have. I’ve been working on the fences for months, and admittedly they were in very poor condition before I started, but the section where the cows broke through has already been repaired.
I don’t understand how it could have happened, and the cows aren’t usually in the field directly behind ours anyway. They shouldn’t have got in.’
‘Maybe something spooked them,’ said Leo. ‘Herd mentality – once one panics the whole lot goes.’ He swallowed a mouthful of tea, a grim expression on his face. ‘What did the farmer have to say for himself?’
‘Not much. He’s just as angry as we are… and worried about his livestock. He claims the gate and fencing was broken, although he can’t explain how, but the cows did a fair amount of damage at his end too.’
‘Well, if he’s responsible, he’ll have to pay for it.’
Willow and Rowan exchanged looks. ‘I’m not sure it’s that simple,’ said Rowan. ‘And I doubt he can afford it either. He’s got all his own fencing to mend, never mind anything else.’
‘That’s hardly the point.’
‘It is though,’ said Rowan, with just enough finality in his voice that Leo sat back in his chair.
Gemma clutched her mug, listening to the exchanges around her, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She was running through the events of the day in her head, because something wasn’t right. It had been tugging at her intermittently ever since she’d left the library and she—
Edging her chair away from the table, she got to her feet and quietly left the room.
In the house at least, there were only a couple of places where she could get a reliable phone signal, and one of these was her bedroom. She dialled a number and waited.
‘Hi Gemma, how are you?’
‘Not too good, I’m afraid,’ she replied. ‘There’s been an incident at the farm and we’re struggling to get our heads around it.’
‘My God, is everyone okay?’