Cowgirl (5 page)

It was pouring with rain Saturday morning, but Mam needed me to go to the supermarket. “Here’s the list,” she said. “And your gran called – I said you’d pick her up a few things too.”

I nodded. Mam looked at me, then shouted upstairs, “Darren! Go with your sister to the shops.”

“
Aw, Mam!”
he called from his room.

“It’s OK,” I said. “No point two of us getting wet.”

To be honest I wanted to get out. I couldn’t stop thinking about my bike, and I couldn’t get away without it, not properly away. So I was walking in the rain; not that cycling in the rain is fun but at least
you get there quicker. The supermarket was busy, but I was too fed up to rush, so I took my time. I smelled Morris before I saw him. He was holding a can of something an inch from his eyes.
I’ll make an effort,
I thought.

“Hello, Morris.”

“Go’way!” he snapped.

“Sorry.” Least I tried.

As I walked away I heard, “Chopped or peeled?”

He was holding out a tin of tomatoes towards me. I went back and read the label. “Chopped,” I said.

“I need
peeled
tomatoes not chopped!” he shouted. People glanced over. I could feel my embarrassment making me go hot, so I found the right tin. “Peeled plum tomatoes,” I said as I handed it to him. He took it and placed it in his basket. “Cooking breakfast, I was. Emptied the can into the saucepan – they were chopped. Ruined that breakfast.”

“Terrible,” I said.

“Now I need tinned corned beef. Tinned, mind you.”

What could I do? I walked down the aisle. Morris and his smell were right behind me. “Here you are,” I said. “Tinned corned beef. Two varieties.”

“Co-op own brand.”

I handed it to him.

“Potato and leek soup – tin.”

And so I became Morris’s helper that morning.

As we went along the shop assistants would glance at me in sympathy. At one point a bloke went past and said, “Morris, do yourself a favour – have a bath, man.”

It was so rude. “Don’t smell like a bunch o’ roses yourself!” I said back.

When we’d finished I said, “Anything else?”

“No,” said Morris. “Go’way.”

The strange thing was that instead of feeling annoyed I couldn’t help laugh, and he smiled at me.

Thankfully the rain had stopped by the time I turned into the alley with Gran’s stuff. I’d have to go straight back out for our shopping after a cup of tea. My heart jumped when I saw Karuna coming out of Mr Banerjee’s backyard. “Keep cool,” I said to myself. I flicked back my wet hair, which was all over the place. “Hello,” he said with a fab’lous smile.

I smiled and nodded – couldn’t speak.
Good start,
I thought.

“I hope you’ve recovered after your nasty experience with your bike?”

“Oh, I’m OK,” I managed to say.

“Popping in to see your grandmother?”

I nodded, stiff as a shop dummy. “Yes, she needs
help with the shopping an’ such,” I said, making out I was Saint Gemma of the Mawr. Cringe.

“Well, have a good day. Give my regards to Lilly.”

There’s posh,
I thought. “Have a good day” and “give my regards”. No one said things like that on the Mawr, least not if you’re my age. “You too,” I said. He walked away. “I like your playing … your flute playing.”

He turned. “Thank you. You and Lilly must say if it disturbs you.”

“No. She likes it too.” I was trying my best to be casual. “I’ve … I’ve always wanted to play – the flute, I mean.”

What a stinker of a lie that was.

He came back towards me. “Really? It’s a beautiful instrument.”

“Yes,” I said, like I’d thought about it.

“I never get tired of playing. The sound reminds me of sunshine, and birds…”

I nodded. “Or a waterfall.”

He smiled. “Yes.” His eyes sparkled like jewels. “Does your school offer music lessons?”

“No,” I said, without knowing for sure.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do.”

My mobile started ringing. “See you around,” he said.

“Yes. Have a good day. Do give my regards to Mr Banerjee.”

I watched him go with a stupid grin on my face, then answered the phone. “Yeah?”

“
That Gemma?”

“Who’s this?”

“
It’s Kate… Got your number off your gran. Where are you?”

“Alleyway behind the terrace.”

“
Think I got your bike.”

I burst into Gran’s house. “Here’s your shopping!”

She grinned at me. “Hope it’s your bike, Gemma.”

“Me too!”

I ran to the post office where Kate said she was. I could see her standing outside holding on to a bike. There was a man, looking well peeved, holding it too and Kate’s mam, Kerry, stood beside them. I ran up, totally out of breath. It was my bike, all right. It wasn’t just the scratches on the handlebars; I’d put a red mudguard on the back wheel that hadn’t come with the bike when I bought it, so I was sure. When I explained that to the man, he said, “Well, anyone could come up and say that, couldn’t they?”

“Where d’you buy it?” Kate asked him.

“A mate, all right?”

“Let’s call the police,” said Kerry. “See what they say.”

“Wait a minute,” the man said. “I paid money for this bike, legit.”

“It was stolen,” Kate said.

“I think the police should be informed,” Kerry said calmly to the man.

He looked around nervously.

I took out the twenty pounds Mam had given me for the shopping. “You can have this,” I said, desperate to have my bike back.

“No, Gemma. It was stolen,” said Kate. “He’s giving it back to you because it’s yours.” She looked at the bloke. “Aren’t you?”

He pulled the twenty pounds from my hand. “Reward money.” He let go of the bike and walked away.

“Hey!” Kate called after him.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I got it back.”

She looked at me – her eyes still angry.

I smiled at her. “That was brilliant, Kate. You’re amazing.”

“MAM!” I shouted. “Got my bike back!”

She came out of the kitchen. “Where was it?”

“Kate found it in town. Stopped a bloke on it.
Held him up and called me. Brilliant, she is.”

“That’s good.”

“I gave the man the money, but it’s all right…”

“You what?”

“I’ve got it, Mam. I got the twenty, but I gave it to him because, well, cheaper than buying a new bike, isn’t it? I’ll get the rest of the shopping now.”

Mam went on at me as I went upstairs to get the money Gran had given me, but I was so happy I didn’t care. I went straight back to the supermarket – didn’t want to risk taking the bike. The sun came out like it was happy for me – corny I know, but I felt so good. I decided to ride up to the farm straight after and thank Kate properly.

Kate Thomas – cowgirl and bike-thief catcher of Wales.

I was free again. The sun was still out and the road was glinting wet, like silver. I was flying. I got to the top of the hill and lifted my arms. “YEEES!” I shouted as I gazed at the Bryn Mawr below. On the way down I screamed a happy scream as the wind battered me.

Kerry came out as I turned into the farmyard. “Hello, Gemma. Kate went off somewhere – didn’t say where.”

“Come to thank her, and you, for finding my bike.”

“Lucky, wasn’t it?” she said. “Kate just walked up to that man and said, ‘This is my friend’s bike.’ Cool
as a cucumber, she was.”

I smiled – Kate calling me “friend”.

“Come in for a cuppa,” she said, “since you come all this way. Don’t worry, no one’ll steal your bike up here.”

There was a lovely smell in the kitchen when I went in. I sat at the table as Kerry prepared the drink. “Hungry?”

“Yes, please, Mrs Thomas.” My stomach agreed with a rumble.

“Oh, call me Kerry.”

She came to the table with a plate of fruit cake. Stonking, it was – home-made. “Lovely,” I said.

“You’re a first, you know.”

I stopped eating. “First what?”

“Never met one of Kate’s friends before. I’m glad,” she said. “She loves those cows, but she spends far too much time on her own. Sometimes I look at her and she seems grown up already.”

She stared at me. I thought maybe she was amazed by the amount of cake I had in my mouth. “Does she talk to you?” she asked.

I nodded even though she didn’t, not really.

“It’s just that I know Kate doesn’t want us to sell the cows, and I just wish she’d understand…”

I pushed more cake into my mouth so that I
wouldn’t have to say anything.

“Those cows don’t earn their keep,” she said. “It’s like Kate’s got twelve pets. With the money we’d get we could pay off Mostyn – it’d give us a fresh start…”

It was like she was talking to herself rather than me. I glanced at the photograph of Kate’s granddad. Kerry must have noticed.

“She loved her Gramps, and when he died she took it very badly, only natural. But two months later the foot-an’-mouth outbreak came along. Our cows didn’t have the disease but the whole herd had to be culled as a precaution. Kate was devastated. She cried and cried. In the end we sent her off to stay with relatives while it all happened. When she came back she didn’t speak for a month … and I mean didn’t speak at all.”

She gazed out of the window. “Don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I suppose it’s because I’ve never met a friend of Kate’s and she doesn’t say a lot. She stormed out earlier – had a blazing row with her father.”

She smiled at me. “D’you get on with your dad?”

There was no cake left, so I shrugged and took a gulp of tea to avoid answering.

“You were hungry.”

I nodded, still a bit embarrassed. “D’you know a
place where there’s a waterfall?” I said it before I’d thought it through.

“Sorry?”

“A waterfall and a big tree. The water pours down rocks and boulders…”

Which is what most waterfalls do,
I thought.
Duh!

“What’s the name of the place?” Kerry asked.

“Don’t know.”

“Forestry Commission is probably your best bet, especially around here – lots of reservoirs and rivers and such.”

I nodded. “Best get off.”

“I’ll tell Kate you dropped by. She’ll be sorry she missed you.”

As I started back down I wondered if Kate really would be sorry she missed me, or whether that was mam-talk. I passed by the field where the cows grazed and stopped by the gate. There they were, heads down chewing at the grass.

“Hello,” I called. They ignored me. “Got my bike back, thanks to Kate.” They went on chewing like they were on a time limit. I suppose they were – they’re born, milked, killed and then eaten. I felt sorry for them.

It was lovely cycling back into the Mawr. I decided to go to Gran’s and maybe offer to do something
round the house. This time I’d lock my bike to the drainpipe, certain.

As I went through town I kept an eye open for Kate, but didn’t see her. When I turned into the back alley there was a crowd all pressed round the doorway of Gran’s backyard. I felt a rush of fear that something bad had happened.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I pedalled up to them. There were even people looking over the neighbours’ walls.

“Gran! Gran!”

“Lilly’s fine, Gemma,” said Polly, but she seemed worried so I wasn’t convinced.

“Gran!” I shouted as I pushed through the crowd.

Then I saw a cow – a proper, real cow.

“It’s Jane,” Gran said to me. “Remember? Isn’t she beautiful?”

I stared at the cow as Kate was filling a tin bath with fodder. There was a pile of hay on the ground. “What’s it doing here?” I asked.

“Kate brought her down to see me.”

“Oh, for the day, like?”

“No,” said Gran. “Long as I like. Isn’t that right?”

Kate shrugged her shoulders. “She’ll probably be better cared for here than up there.” She glanced up at the hills, as if the Thomas farm was round the corner. “If she’s too much trouble I’ll
take her back.”

“It’s bonkers!” said Roger.

“Don’t you start!” said Gran. “It’s my backyard. I’ll do as I like.”

“But what about the smell, the noise?” asked Roger.

“I have to put up with your smells and noises.”

“What about food?” I asked.

Kate pointed at the tin bath. “That’ll last a while. I can bring more if need be. Then there’s grass, weeds, hay…”

“I’ll go round and collect greenery for her,” said Gran. “It’ll keep me fit and I’ll be doing this overgrown, shabby estate a favour.”

“Oh Lilly, come on – a cow!” said Polly.

“How many cats have you got?”

“Only two. What are you saying, Lil? Two cats are as much bother as a great hulking cow?”

“No, I’m not saying that, course not, but this beauty will give me milk to drink, and I can make butter and cheese as well. All she wants is grass an’ such. She’ll earn her keep, not like cats who just want a feed and a snooze.”

At this point Jane raised her tail and did a huge poo on to Gran’s patio.

“Great,” said Roger. “It’s going to stink to high heaven round here!”

“I’ll take it,” said Mr Banerjee. “Manure for my roses. They’ll grow well.”

“There you are,” said Gran. “Whenever Jane drops a load I’ll let you know, Mr Banerjee. You can count on it.”

“You won’t have to tell him,” said Roger. “He’ll smell it!”

Everyone started chipping in about how stupid it was to have a cow in the backyard, and, to be honest, I had to agree.

“I don’t care,” said Gran, raising her hands in the air. “We’ve got plenty of real problems on the Bryn Mawr. You don’t need me to tell you that. This cow, Jane, she won’t be smashing your windows, or stealing, or shouting foul-mouthed abuse, or mugging you when you come back from the post office with your pension. No. She’ll be good as gold, and give far more than she takes
and
she’ll be company for me. So I ask you, give her a chance…”

Everyone went quiet.

Mr Banerjee joined his hands together. “She will bring us good luck.”

“Thank you,” said Gran, then the crowd parted and Morris walked up to Jane. I was surprised because he usually stays indoors.

“Lovely isn’t she, Morris?” said Gran.

He stared at Jane. “I’ll build her a shelter, if you want, Lilly,” he said in a whisper.

“I think that’s a cracking idea, Morris.”

“Got a tarpaulin in the attic,” he added. “Won’t be fancy but it’ll do the job.”

Roger tutted. “A tarpaulin?”

“A simple shelter is all she needs, Roger,” said Gran, “not the Great Wall of China. Thank you, Morris.”

She turned to everyone. “Right. Show’s over now. I want to settle Jane into her new home and milk her.”

“Any milk left over, Lilly, I’ll take it,” Roger said.

“Oh, will you? Well, Morris’ll be first as he’s offered to put up the shelter. Now, if you don’t mind…”

Gran started shooing them away as if they were pigeons.

I turned to Kate. “Went up the farm to see you, on my bike. Your mam said nothing about you taking a cow down to Gran.”

She stared at me with her dad’s scary eyes.

“That’s because she doesn’t know.”