Pink Wellies and Flat Caps (20 page)

‘I made a lovely
ginger one the other day but I gave half to Sara,’ I say swelling.

Georgie shakes her head.

‘Christ, don’t drink the water Cas. I wasn’t far wrong about the Stepford Wives thing.’

‘Don’t worry.
I brought crucifixes and holy water.’

‘Come on you two. You should be happy that I am not moping over Charlie.’

They look at each other. You know the kind of look, that shared look where you’re not involved but somehow it’s all about you.

‘What?’ I ask
.

Oh God, Charlie hasn’t died or something has he? It’s like something out of a Nicholas Sparks
’ novel. Just as everything is going along swimmingly, smash bang wallop and there is a tragedy.

‘H
as he got leukaemia?’

‘What the fuck has leukaemia got to do with anything?’ gasps Cas.

‘Because they always have it in Nicholas Sparks’ novels.’

Georgie sighs.

‘What has Nicholas Sparks got to do with it?’

My stomach does a somersault.

‘It’s bad news about Charlie isn’t it? That’s why he broke everything off …’

‘It depends what you mean by bad news, right Cas?’

He’s been shot or something. This is just terrible. Shit, of all the times for this to happen. At that moment the phone rings and I freeze.

‘That’s them with the news isn’t it?’ I say, panic rising up and threatening to engulf me.

I rush to the dresser and grab the phone.

‘Hello,’ I say urgently
.

There is a silence for a moment, and then a woman’s voice, sharp and clipped.

‘Who’s that?’

‘It’s Alice,’

‘Who?’

‘Alice.’

‘Where’s Ted?’

Her voice is razor sharp, quick and so abrupt that I feel like I’ve been slapped across the face. Why is she asking about Ted? What about Charlie?

‘He’s not here. He went to a veterinary show in Exeter. He’ll be back later today. Shall I tell him you called?’

I glance at Cas and Georgie who are staring at me while stuffing themselves with cake.

‘Apart from being Alice, just who are you exactly?’

Yes, Alice, just who in the world are you?

‘I’m the housekeeper,’ I say in a hoity-toity voice. ‘And who might you be?’

‘Housekeeper,
my God, he really is serious about that bloody farm isn’t he? Well tell him his fiancée called and all the way from bloody New Zealand. Honestly, he could try and be there.’

Did she say Edward’s fiancée?

‘Have you tried his mobile?’ I suggest helpfully.

‘Of course I tried his mobile. The bloody thing
’s off, just tell him I called.’

The phone goes dead. Edward has never mentioned a fiancée. For some stupid reason I feel my legs go to jelly and I grab the table for support.

‘You okay Alice, you’ve gone all white?’ says Georgie, filling a glass with water.

‘Edward has a fiancée,’ I say stupidly.

Cas slaps his hand to his heart.

‘Oh my God, I thought for a minute he had been struck down with a terrible illness.’

‘No, that only happens to you Cas and even then it doesn’t
really
happen,’ sighs Georgie.

‘Wh
at’s so odd about that anyway?’

She
hands me the water.

‘He’s never ever mentioned a woman. I know he doesn’t have to, it’s just
…’

It’s just I really like him and I have no real idea if he likes me. Sometimes I think he does but then I wonder if he is just being kind to me. I know he likes Sara and now I hear he has a fiancée. I never imagined Edward to be such a ladies
’ man.

‘I thought you said this place was a dump,’ says Georgie checking out the Aga.

‘What are you talking about, it is a dump,’ chuckles Cas, ‘but a better class of dump than I thought it was going to be.’

‘What’s wrong with Charlie,’ I demand. ‘Come on, you can’t keep it from me forever?’

There’s that look again. The
how do we tell her
look. This is terrible. It’s like waiting for that last number at the bingo. He hasn’t had a terrible accident has he? Please don’t tell me he’s had his limbs amputated or something.

Georgie pulls up a c
hair and pushes me into it. It’s worse than I thought.

‘You know your honeymoon? The one you never quite went on?’ says Georgie grimly.

‘The romantic honeymoon of a lifetime in Lake wherever,’ adds Cas.

I nod mutely with a mild feeling of distress creeping into my body.

‘Well, he didn’t cancel it. He’s now taking Big Tits instead of you. Honestly, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard that,’ finishes Georgie.

He’s taking Big Tits on my honeymoon? I’m torn between feelings of relief that Charlie hasn’t had his legs amputated after a horrific car crash, while at the same wishing I could amputate a certain appendage of his myself. There are moments in life where you feel that if you could just turn the clock back to the point it all went wrong then you may be able to put it right. I so want to go back to that moment with Charlie and put everything right.

‘But we spent hours choosing our honeymoon at the lakes,’ I say thinly disguising the agony in my voice.

‘How can he even consider taking her?’

‘Well with a bit of luck they’ll drown in one of them,’ comforts Georgie.

‘What has she got that I haven’t? I mean what is she giving him that I couldn’t?’ I groan.

‘Big tits and a permanent erection darling?’ offers Cas.

I burst out laughing
.

‘The only thing that would give Charlie a permanent erection is a little blue pill
,’ I splutter.

‘Enough of Charlie,’ declares Cas. ‘Lead me to
the calf, I’ve come prepared.’

He whips out a surgical mask.

‘I’ve had my tetanus and hepatitis jabs.’

‘Honestly
Cas, it just gets worse,’ giggles Georgie.

‘Well, you were threatening me with the Little Chef remember? No one goes in one of those without protection.’

I eagerly lead them round the back of the house.

‘Ooh chickens,’ Cas cries excitedly. ‘Does Edward have a cock?’

Georgie giggles.

‘One would certainly hope so.’

I roll my eyes.

‘Sorry Ali, it’s just us and the country, you know how it is.’

I take them into the milking shed and round the back to Chloe’s pen. She runs to me, her eyes wide, hopeful, and I like to think full of love. Cas takes one look inside the shed and backs away.

‘She won’t charge will she?’ he asks nervously.

‘It’s a calf not a bull,’ says Georgie carefully stroking Chloe’s head. Chloe responds by chewing Georgie’s cashmere cardigan.

‘Excuse me sweetie, one doesn’t chew a Prada.’

‘Unless one has taste,’ I laugh, picking up the teat bucket.

‘Christ, what’s that when it’s at home? More importantly, where can I get one? That one certainly makes your eyes water,’ exclaims Cas.

‘I should have left him in the Little Chef loo. He would have died from the shame of it, and we would have been shot of him,’ Georgie sighs.

I place the teat in Chloe’s mouth and we sit watching her. The only sounds are Chloe’s suckling and the hum of a tractor in a distant field. There’s an eerie stillness about everything and Georgie shivers.

‘Is this it? Is this all you do all day? Feed her and make cakes. Christ, you must be going insane,’ says Cas breaking the silence and scraping cow dung off his shoe. ‘How do you stand the smell? You must still have it up your nostrils when you’re eating your Cornish pasties.’

Georgie and I ignore him and I show her how to hold the teat bucket.

‘It’s quite sexual this isn’t it? I mean, I could get quite turned on by a teat bucket,’ she says in her best Monroe voice.

‘Now there’s a new use for a teat bucket I’ve not heard before,’ comes a voice from behind us.

Georgie spins round and sprays us in milk.

‘You must be Edward,’ she says.

Why is it she thinks everyone is Edward? And why is Dominic Montfort here?

‘Thankfully no, I’m not Edward. Dominic Montfort. I own the next farm. It’s nice to meet you.’

‘Oh,’ she begins and attempts a sort of curtsy. I say
sort of
because she somehow gets her foot caught up in her skirt and kind of skids towards him. I’m not sure what kind of impression she is trying to make but it’s dead embarrassing. She straightens herself up awkwardly and holds out her hand.

‘I’m Georgie and this is Cas. We’ve come from London to visit Alice.’

We watch stunned as Dominic gallantly raises her hand to his lips and kisses it. I feel sure I hear Georgie sigh. Cas gives me a sidelong look and then holds out his hand. I could die from embarrassment.

‘You can just shake mine darling, hand that is. Feel free
not
to kiss, germs and all that.’

Oh, the shame of it. What was I thinking inviting Cas to the country? To my relief Dominic smiles and turns his gaze onto me.

‘I came to see if you were free for lunch?’

Oh dear.

‘We’re lunching at The Heifer, why don’t you join us?’ invites Georgie.

‘How lovely.
I brought pink champagne. Why don’t we all have it as an aperitif before we leave?’

‘Ooh
pink champagne, how divine,’ cries Cas. ‘All I’ve got to do is get past that demonic dog and I’ll be in heaven.’

It sounds like Domin
ic is joining us for lunch. I hope Edward doesn’t find out.

I am concentrating so hard on relaxing that all my muscles have gone rigid. A glass of
pink champagne and two glasses of red wine, and I’m still tense. Tipsy but tense. I’m just waiting for some awful disaster to befall our lunch, but so far all is going incredibly well. There was an eerie hush when we walked into the pub, which everyone except Cas was aware of.

‘Hello all, we’re the city folk here for a visit, just for the weekend, so you don’t need to lock up your husbands,’ he announced.

I have eaten so much to calm my nerves that I’ve had to undo the button on my skirt. I know, one is supposed to drink to calm one’s nerves. But if I drink much more I’ll be paralytic. I wish I could relax. The atmosphere around the table is cheerful, although Jed and Dominic have barely spoken. It doesn’t seem to matter as Georgie has practically bulldozed Jed into a corner, and hasn’t stopped firing questions at him. He, in turn, seems to be enjoying spending time with my London friends. Cas is his normal self and everyone seems to find him hysterically funny, while I have an uneasy feeling about it all. I wish I was back at the farm sitting with Chloe. I’m worrying about the bill too. I hope Dominic doesn’t offer to pay for me. How can I possibly deny him sex if he does? The pink champers must have cost a small fortune. He may be expecting a handjob on the strength of that alone. I must be tipsy. I never have such sordid thoughts normally. I also can’t stop thinking about Edward’s fiancée. Why has he got a fiancée in New Zealand? If Charlie had buggered off to New Zealand I would have thought he was trying to tell me something. Here I go thinking of Charlie and Big Tits Brunette. What is he doing jetting off on our honeymoon with her? I bet they’re having mad passionate sex all over the place and …

‘What are you having for dessert Ali
?’ asks Georgie in a perky voice.

I feel sick. The mention of dessert in the same breath as thoughts of Charlie and Big Tits having sex is enough to make me throw up my lamb shank. I’m just about to say I’ll pass on the dessert when I see Edward walk through the door and, oh no, there is a thunderous look on his face. He looks around, spots us and marches over. I feel an overwhelming urge to dive under the table. He comes to a halt in front of me and then, with a slightly patronising
air, nods at everyone. My shoulders lift up even further.

‘Alice,’ he says firmly, ‘can I have a word?’

I have a feeling it’s going to be more than one. I’m beginning to feel horribly sick. Why is it I seem to always do something that makes Edward cross?

‘Who are you?’ asks Georgie in a bold manner that only comes from having too much wine. I roll my eyes. Honestly, the one time she should say
Oh you must be Edward
and she lets me down.

‘This is Edward,’ I say, alarmed at how slurry my words are. I stand up and sway ungainly. I point my finger at him and he gently lowers it with his hand.

‘Alice, the golden rule?’ he hisses into my ear.

The golden rule? I didn’t know there was a rule about pointing at him. It’s getting worse. I frantically scan my befuddled brain for some recognition of the golden rule while fighting the overwhelming urge to throw up.