Cowgirl (13 page)

When Donna mooed it wasn’t the usual sort of moo, it was more like a groan.

They’d taken her back to Morris’s yard. Kate ran her hand over Donna’s belly and she walked all around her.

“What is it?” I asked.

“She’s too early, but I think she’s ready to calve.”

Gran brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, love.”

“But something’s not right.” For the first time I saw fear in Kate’s eyes. She looked at me and said, “I need my dad.”

When Kate phoned him her voice was small and she sounded scared. I thought Mr Thomas would refuse to come, but she hung up and said, “He’s on his way.”

It was getting dark, and news soon got around that Donna was going to calve. Morris had his kitchen lights on but it wasn’t enough, so people brought lamps and gathered in the yard. There was a warm glow of light, which reminded me of a picture of the Nativity I saw once.

Every time Donna let out a moo we all felt for her. It was awful, so Karuna played the flute to calm us. When we heard Mr Thomas’s truck coming down the alley the tension got worse. The car door slammed shut and the crowd parted to let Mr Thomas into the yard. He stood there for a moment, staring at us. Here we all were, standing around Donna, a cow we’d taken from him, who was now in trouble. She let out a groaning moo as if she was saying, “Get a move on!”

“Thank you for coming,” said Gran.

Mr Thomas looked over Donna. She mooed. “Easy, girl.” He went to the truck and came back with a long plastic thing. He handed it to Kate.

“Dad, I—”

“They’re your cows,” he said. “Get cleaned up and find out what’s wrong.” He turned to us. “We’ll need
more straw.”

Some of the neighbours went off as soon as he said that. Mr Thomas went to his truck and returned with a can of something that he sprayed on Donna’s behind – disinfectant, Gran said it was. When Kate came out she was wearing the long plastic glove that went right up to her shoulder. She went to the back of Donna.

“Reach in as far as you can,” her dad said, “and tell me what you feel.”

Donna snorted as Kate slid her arm in. I breathed in sharply. After a few moments she said, “I can feel a foot.”

“Can you feel the calf’s head?”

“No.”

“OK, try and pull the foot round. Don’t worry about hurting her – it’ll only make it easier.”

I could see Kate grit her teeth as she pulled. Donna mooed.

“I’ve shifted it a bit.”

“Now try again to feel for the head, or the nose of the calf.”

Kate grunted as she reached in. “There’s something… Yeah, it’s the head.”

I was so tense. Mr Banerjee was praying. I glanced at Karuna, who smiled and made me feel everything
would be OK.

“Now you’ve got to try and bring the head round and reach the other leg.”

Kate pulled back a little and Donna cried out. Morris tried to soothe her.

“OK, the head’s facing forward.”

“Now go as far as you can,” said Mr Thomas. “Try and find the right shoulder. Then you can pull the leg round.”

Kate reached in and Donna mooed loudly.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Take over, Dad!”

“No. Try again.”

Kate winced as she stretched. Donna mooed and Gran moaned along with her. Mam put her arm round me and I held her hand.

Kate gasped. “Got the knee.”

“Good. Straighten it and pull her round.”

Kate clenched her jaw. Donna staggered, which made Kate slip.

“Easy, girl,” said Mr Thomas.

Now Kate was standing on tiptoe and her legs trembled.

Donna started mooing continuously.

“Make sure the head is not tipping back,” said Mr
Thomas. “It should be between both hooves.”

Kate’s expression was determined. Her face was red with the effort as she pulled. Then her hand came out holding two little hooves.

“She’ll take over, Kate,” her dad said. “Let her go.”

Kate stood back. Donna snorted. Then I saw the nose – the nose of a baby cow – and I couldn’t stop myself crying. With another push from Donna, the calf ’s head hung down limply. I put my arm round Darren, who was in tears too. Then, with a final push, the calf dropped on to the bed of straw.

“Good girl!” said Morris proudly.

I blew air out my cheeks.

Donna’s calf was covered in blood and slime. Mr Thomas got down and started massaging it – it wasn’t breathing.

Kate knelt beside him. Without being asked she lifted the calf ’s head, forced open the mouth and blew into it. Nothing.

She tried again and I saw the calf ’s belly expand.

There was a snort and the calf cried out, sounding more like a baby lamb.

We all watched in silence as she struggled to get up. We willed her to stand on her own legs. She was so delicate – her legs looked like they could snap in half. She stumbled, and tried to get up again and
again. She wobbled, staggered and fell. When she finally stood up she took two steps, raised her head and started taking milk from Donna. There were “ooh”s and “aah”s from all of us as Donna began to lick her clean. Everyone had tears in their eyes, even Roger.

“Thanks, Dad,” said Kate. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Mr Thomas seemed uncomfortable, like he’d forgotten we were there.

As we waited for Kate to clean herself up Mr Thomas stood in Gran’s kitchen with his arms tightly wrapped around his chest.

“What about the calf?” Gran asked as she made tea. “I mean, what do we need to do?”

“Donna will look after her,” he said. “She’s done it before. But she’ll need some fodder, so I’ll drop some by tomorrow.”

“But … don’t you want them up at the farm?”

“Not the best time to be moving a cow and her calf. Better they stay here for now. That doesn’t mean all the cows,” he added sternly. “Just the cow
and newborn.”

There was a knock on the door. I opened it to Kerry. She walked in just as Kate came down the stairs. “Everything all right?” she asked.

“She did fine,” said Mr Thomas.

“Yeah, Donna was great,” Kate said. “So patient.”

“I meant you,” said her dad. “Proud of you, I was.”

Kate’s face suddenly crumpled up. “Sorry, Dad. I’m sorry. I made such a mess of things. I don’t know why…”

Kerry hugged her. I felt like me and Gran shouldn’t have been there, like we were in
their
kitchen looking on.

Mr Thomas sat down at the table with a sigh. “Oh, it was already a mess, Kate. Your granddad was right, I don’t have the stomach for farming. I should have done something about it long ago.”

“He did say that, Dad,” said Kate. “But that’s not all…”

“What he said was nothing I didn’t already know.”

“No. He also said to Granma that you could bend wood with your hands, and that you had green fingers. Said you’d make a fine carpenter or gardener.”

“Wish he’d said it to me,” Mr Thomas muttered.

“I told it to you wrong, on purpose,” said Kate. “I was mad at you.”

“I sometimes wish I was a proper farmer like Mostyn,” he said. “Driving to be bigger and better.”

“I don’t,” said Kate.

“Me neither,” said Kerry.

“I tell you what was peculiar,” said Mr Thomas. “Seeing those cows on the Mawr Common. It triggered a memory – me taking cows down there as a boy, with my dad. Then they built the Mawr estate and it wasn’t safe to bring them down there any more.”

“The cows!” said Kate. “I forgot. We took six up to the field by the motorway.”

“They brought them back,” said Gran. “When they realised Donna was going to calve they decided they couldn’t leave them overnight. Sorry, Mr Thomas, we’ll take them all up to you tomorrow.”

“Well, nothing’s changed,” he said. “I still need to sell those twelve cows.”

“Thirteen now,” said Gran.

He nodded. “Aye, thirteen. I could take them to the livestock market, but just the cost of taking them there isn’t going to help me… I could go see Mostyn, cap in hand, ask him to reconsider; though he was pretty annoyed with me, as you can imagine.”

I thought of my meeting with Mostyn – I’d probably blown any chance of him changing his mind.

“How much would we need to buy them?” Gran asked.

“Oh, a lot. Thousands. You see, about eight of those cows were just going to pay back the debt I owe him. So I’ve not much choice.”

“Can we keep ’em until the end of the week?”

I’d spoken before I’d thought it through. Everyone was gawping at me.

“Any particular reason?” Mr Thomas asked.

“It’s what you said about a fete, Gran.”

“What about it?”

“Well, why don’t we have one? Like a party to see off the cows.”

Gran grinned at me. She seemed stuck for words for a moment, then she turned to Kate’s dad. “We’ve no right to ask anything of you, Mr Thomas, after what we did, but I think that’s a wonderful idea … a proper fete with a stalls, a tombola, a raffle … like in your father’s day. It’d be a proper send-off.”

Mr Thomas sighed. “I think my dad must have liked you.”

“Oh, I was invisible to him,” said Gran. “But I’ll confess something to you – I had an almighty crush on him. I kept tabs on what he was up to after the war, and I bumped into him once. I could hardly speak. A month or two later I heard he was getting
married and I cried. He broke my heart without ever knowing it.”

Gran smiled.

“What if I go and speak to Don Mostyn myself?” she said to Mr Thomas. “You never know … if I tell him…”

“Gran. I already did.”

“When? You never said.”

“Yesterday. He’s only interested in money. I probably made it worse – called him ‘Miser Mostyn’. Sorry.”

“Oh, Gemma,” said Gran. “You shouldn’t have.”

Someone laughed. Mr Thomas was grinning at me.

He seemed different – sort of relaxed and kind. I glanced at Kate, who was smiling at me too. She had a lovely smile.

“What
is
a fete, Mam?”

I was so glad Darren asked, because I wasn’t sure either. We were in the lounge working on the plan – everyone was getting into the idea.

“Well, it’s … it’s a party, I suppose, in a way,” said Mam. “Everyone enjoying a nice day outside with stalls and games. I remember the one we used to have on the Common, like your gran mentioned.”

“Why did it stop?” I asked.

“I suppose the Mawr isn’t the place it used to be,” she said.

“What if it rains?”

“Maybe I can get the marquee from work.”

“The what?” asked Darren.

“It’s a big tent, love. We could have the stalls inside that if need be.”

My phone rang. It was Kate.

“All right?”

“
Can you come to Cardiff with me?
” she asked.

“Mam, Kate wants me to go to Cardiff with her.”

“What for?

“What for?” I asked Kate.

“
I’ll tell you when I see you. S’important.”

Kate paid for my ticket. So there I was, sat beside her on the bus. I was glad she asked me, but Kate was looking out the window as if I wasn’t there. She seemed edgy.

“Karuna and Mr Banerjee are organising a Hindu thing, for the fete,” I said, just for something to say. “Can’t remember what it’s called, but it celebrates spring, apparently. There’ll be a tombola – which is like a raffle – Polly, Mrs Evans and Mave Rubens are doing that. Mrs Oleski and Mrs Choudary are doing cakes and hot drinks, and Roger’s in charge of music. My mam’s going to try and sort out a marquee … a big tent…” I was going on, which was probably annoying and I
couldn’t bear the suspense, so I said, “Why we going to Cardiff?”

“To see Mr Phillips.”

“Oh… Who’s he?”

“He’s the man from Defra who was checking over the cows. I thought he might be able to help with this.” She gave me a piece of paper she’d printed off the Internet. It was all about kids visiting farms and learning about cows, pigs and everything.

“Looks good,” I said, though I didn’t know what it had to do with our cows.

“My dad’s worried about what to do,” said Kate.

“But he’ll have the cows back after the fete,” I said.

“It’s not just that though. He feels bad about taking the cows off everyone.”

“But they’re his cows.”

“I told him that. I told him. But he’s upset about it now, and that’s down to me. I made out it was all down to Mostyn putting pressure on him, but I knew it wasn’t just that. There was no way out. Dad’s desperate to do what’s right. And it’s all worse because of what I did…”

When I saw her tears that did it for me. I put my hand on her shoulder. “Listen. We’ll go and see Clipboard Phillips. If he doesn’t want to help we’ll … we’ll smash up his office…” Kate looked at me. “Just
joking. We’ll say we’ll go to the papers…”

“No. I don’t think––”

“Yeah, Kate! We’ll go to the papers, tell them about the fete, and start a campaign, you know, like you see on the telly. We want the cows for the Bryn Mawr…” I glanced at the sheet of paper. “So that ‘inner-city children, in particular, can gain an understanding of sustainable agri…culture and the invaluable contribution of farming and livestock’…”

“Livestock,” said Kate.

“That’s what I said.”

“You said ‘livstock’.”

“Oh. ‘…the invaluable contribution of farming and
livestock
to all nations of the world … including Wales’.”

“Including Wales?”

“I added that bit.”

Kate smiled. Job done.

When we got to Cardiff we walked until we got to this office-type building.

“This the place?” I asked.

She nodded – definitely nervous, she was.

“Come on then,” I said, and led the way in.

There were two receptionists behind a long counter. One was busy and the other glanced at us and said, “Can I help?”

“We’d like to see Mr Phillips,” said Kate.

“D’you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“And you are?”

“Kate Thomas.”

“And Gemma Matthews,” I added, brushing my hair behind my ear. I wished I had a briefcase or something with me, just to look the business.

“Why d’you want to see him, exactly?”

“It’s about the Bryn Mawr Dozen,” I said.

“The what?”

“The cows on the Bryn Mawr.”

She smiled. “Oh, yes.”

I looked at Kate and winked.

“Mr Phillips?” said the receptionist into the phone. “I have Kate Thomas for you … and a Gemma Matthews… No. She’s here, in reception.” Pause. “The Bryn Mawr cows…” Another pause. “Very well.” She put the phone down. “Someone will be down directly.”

“Thank you very much,” I said to her, like I was totally with it.

I sat with Kate on these squeaky leather chairs while we waited. I tried to learn the printout Kate gave me, as I thought it might be useful. Then I noticed a yoghurt stain on my tracksuit top from
breakfast. I was trying to rub it off when a woman came up to us.

“Kate and Gemma? Would you follow me?”

She took us down corridors and through this big office with people at computers. They all looked at me and Kate as we went by. I nodded at them, like I was important, but at the same time wished I hadn’t worn my jeans and tracksuit top with the yoghurt stain.

We were shown into a small office, and there was Mr Phillips, the man from Defra, ’cept he wasn’t wearing his wellies.

The woman who took us there said, “Would you like a tea?”

“Yes, please,” I said just as Kate said, “No, thank you.” So I said, “Nah,” coughed and crossed my legs.

“Right,” said Mr Phillips. “What’s this about?”

He didn’t smile, which wasn’t a good start.

“We want to start a City Farm on the Bryn Mawr,” said Kate.

He looked at us like we’d said something rude. He opened his mouth to speak.

“So that inner-city children can understand anti…culture and livestock…” I said, but something came out wrong as he seemed well puzzled. “So that kids get to know about cows, basically.”

Mr Phillips nodded slowly. “But I don’t see how I can help.”

I stood up. “Right! We’ll go to the papers then.”

Kate kicked me and I knew I’d put my foot in it.