Sunshine Over Wildflower Cottage (17 page)

‘You could bypass the press and flood the truth online,’ Viv tried.

‘Leighton’s solicitors would come down on me like a ton of bricks. Now, I don’t have any money, so I’m not worried about being sued particularly, but he could make things very awkward for the people who live in Ironmist. He will crush anyone who threatens his name and good character. He has a lot to lose and sticking a few pins in him is like cutting the head off a hydra: four more grow back in its place. The only way to beat Nicholas Leighton is to kill his plans stone dead – and I can’t do it. And, as much faith as Geraldine has in spirits rising up from mists, I think even the supernatural would have difficulty with this one.’

He stuck the pitchfork in a bale of hay as if he’d punctured Leighton’s heart. ‘Now, let’s go and see to Wonk and Bertie.’

Chapter 32

Stel hadn’t stopped smiling since Saturday evening. She felt like a seventeen year old again. But then, she had felt like a seventeen year old every time she hooked up with a man – and a seventy seven year old after they’d used her and spat her out at the other end. So this time, she told herself that she really should take things slowly and steadily. Still, something else countermanded that instruction, because Ian Robson could very well be
the one.
She felt there was something special about him, something different to all the others. He’d gone the extra mile for her, finding Basil and treating her like a princess on their first date.

Stella Robson, Stella Robson.
It sounded much better than silly Stella Blackbird. It would be wonderful and so respectable to have a married name at last. She had wanted to fizz with excitement when she had spoken to Viv the previous night.

Stel had always enjoyed her job, but she had never been as glad to get into work as she was on Monday. On her morning break she saw Ian through the kitchen window standing talking to Graham, the other gardener, over by the water feature and a few hundred butterflies started flapping in her stomach. How could she have thought he wasn’t fanciable? He always smelled lovely and dressed nicely, was tall and slim and had such a wide smile. As if sensing her eyes on him, Ian turned in her direction and Stella raised her hand and smiled enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically – as if she were a fourteen year old waving at Justin Bieber. Her soaring spirits plummeted as Ian gave her the briefest of polite smiles then resumed talking to Graham. Stel felt winded. What had he done that for? Did he see her properly? Had he changed his mind about her? Was he just being polite when he’d said he was looking forward to seeing her at work?

Then, just as Stel was about to slink to her post behind reception, she saw Meredith, the curvy new auxiliary nurse, walk from the kitchen into the garden holding two mugs which she passed to the gardeners and there was nothing polite or forced about the way Ian smiled at her. Stel couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Meredith was lingering long after she had handed over the coffee, and didn’t seem in a hurry to get back to her duties. Stel watched as Ian talked to her, laughed at something she said. She saw Meredith tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear – a sure sign of flirting, if that psychologist woman on
Big Brother
was anything to go by. She thought she saw Ian glance towards the window at her again, but she must have been mistaken. Stel gulped as Meredith pushed him gently on the shoulder as if he’d said something cheeky to her.

In the space of five minutes, the temperature of Stel’s day had dropped by seventy degrees. She felt like crying as she went behind reception and logged back on to her computer. She knew she was being pathetic and didn’t care.

Chapter 33

Bertie liked his belly rubbed. He rolled over when Heath walked into his pen, his hooves waving in the air. Viv couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

‘He likes ice-cream too,’ said Heath, answering her open-mouthed expression. ‘This is quite normal for a pig, believe it or not. They’re clean and intelligent animals. That’s why he has a toy-box. There’s a yellow dispensing ball over in the corner. Fill it with these, will you?’ He pulled a bag of sliced apples out of his pocket. ‘Then open the gate so he can go in with the horses. He likes to sleep by himself but spend the day with them.’

Viv did as she was told. She had a home waiting for the shire horses – a well-to-do place where Roger and Keith would live out a very luxurious life, but they wouldn’t accommodate Bertie. The woman on the phone had been quite snotty with her as well. ‘I doubt the horses would miss a pig,’ she said. ‘They don’t form attachments like that.’ As Viv watched Bertie nose his yellow ball into the neighbouring field so he could play with it in close proximity to his equine friends, she doubted the woman knew as much about horses as she claimed. When Roger abandoned the grass to gently nudge Bertie’s head, it was impossible not to see it as a sign of affection.

‘He’s never actually believed he’s a pig, that’s the problem,’ said Heath. ‘He imprinted too much on horses. He was in love with our white foal Sooty when he was a piglet.’

‘Sooty?’ asked Viv.

‘Armstrong named her. Sadly she died when she was three. Bertie was very depressed. But he bonded with the shires. He likes Wonk but she doesn’t like him. From her attitude, it’s clear she thinks he’s not good enough for her.’

Wonk, it appeared, liked to watch the geese. When Viv opened up their wooden houses, they flooded down the ramp, wings a-flapping, hissing at her and forcing her to scream with terror. She noticed Heath stifling his laughter.

‘You really are the wrong person to be working in an animal shelter, aren’t you?’

‘Yep,’ said Viv, hopping out of the way of a goose that was taking an unhealthy interest in her legs.

‘You didn’t ask for a pay rise,’ said Heath, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. She noticed he did that when he meant business. He raised his eyebrows as if waiting for an answer to a question.

‘Pardon?’
What did he want her to say to that
?

‘I mean, any normal person who’d been asked to double their workload would have asked for a pay rise.’

Viv snorted. ‘Would you have given me a pay rise if I’d asked?’

‘Of course not.’

She held up her arms in a gesture that said ‘well then.’

‘You’re either a saint or a nutter,’ said Heath, reaching into the goose house to retrieve any eggs.

‘Only a nutter would work full-time for the ridiculous wage you were offering in the first place,’ Viv mumbled to herself as the persistent goose attempted to peck her welly and she made a hasty retreat to the other side of the gate. She’d had enough of the geese. She did, however, find the hens very sweet. As they scratched for bugs in the earth, they looked as if they were trying to moonwalk. She didn’t mind collecting the eggs from the hen house. It reminded her of the Easter egg hunts her mother used to set up for her and her friends when they were little.

Then it was time for the big scary birds of prey. She waited near the flying arena for Heath to return with their food.

‘Every day we hose down the gravel in their aviaries,’ said Heath, grabbing a hosepipe and handing it to Viv. ‘You’ve met Beatrice and know how amenable she is, so let’s start with her.’

Heath watched with amusement as Viv started to feed the pipe through the wires.

‘You have to actually go in,’ he said.

‘In?’ Viv let out a screech worthy of Frank the vulture.

Heath opened the aviary door.

Beatrice began to yarp. ‘Morning, Bea,’ said Heath. He held his hands flat out at either side. ‘That means, I have no food so there’s no point in trying to fly to me,’ he said. ‘You need to move any old food, bones, casts out of the way first, then we hose, then we feed, which, today, will be some more venison. The birds will see you and associate you with the reward of tasty meat. They’ll be putty in your hands in no time.’

Viv would have disputed that. ‘Poor deer,’ she said, picking up some of the pellets.

‘Would you rather we fed them Rice Krispies?’ replied Heath with a barely concealed huff. ‘Now are you ready to begin? I’m going to switch on the tap. Beatrice will go onto her branches. She will not divebomb you.’

‘You’re leaving me in here, by myself?’ asked Viv. Her heart-rate was through the roof. She jumped as water coursed through the pipe and she quickly directed it onto the ground. Just as Heath said, Beatrice flew up to her branch and watched Viv washing down her gravel with a mix of interest and disdain.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ said Heath, trying not to chuckle as Viv emerged from the cage shaking. He threw in some meat which the eagle owl swooped on. ‘Now I hear from Geraldine that Ursula actually gave you the time of day, which is encouraging, so let me see for myself.’ He opened the snowy owl’s cage and watched as her head swivelled around to Viv and her beak started to twitch.

‘Good. Now, in you go,’ said Heath.

Viv’s wellies were stuck to the ground. Heath gave her a push and closed the door behind her.

‘If she attacks, I promise, I’ll be straight in.’

‘What do you mean
attacks
?’

Ursula’s beak started moving.
Chuck chuck chuck.

‘What does that mean?’ said Viv.

‘Amazing,’ said Heath. ‘She’s telling you she’s fine about you being in there. Give her the sign that you have no food for her,’ urged Heath. Viv gave Ursula the full jazz hands.

‘Nothing to eat here, birdie,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Honest.’

Viv set about clearing Ursula’s aviary, checking on the position of the bird every few seconds, which made it a very long job.

‘You don’t have to worry, I did say I was on full chaperone duty,’ said Heath, with a smile of impatience which wasn’t really a smile at all. ‘Although I am impressed that she is letting you get so close to her. She tried to crack open my head.’

‘You aren’t helping,’ said Viv, finishing off the hosing.

‘Okay, now you give her food. That will push you up even further in her estimations. Pick some of that up and let her have it. Call her by her name.’

‘She can recognise her name?’ asked Viv.

‘Well, they learn to recognise the sound, which may or may not be the same thing.’ replied Heath.

Viv stepped out of the aviary to pull a handful of meat from the bucket. She heaved slightly as she threw it into the far corner. ‘There you go, Ursula. Ursula. Ursula. Ursula. Urs—’

‘Okay, that’s fine.’ Heath cut her off. ‘I think she’s got the gist. Out of there now, let her eat her breakfast. Now for the fun part. Frank. You’ll need to take no nonsense from him . . .’

‘There is no way I’m going into the pen with a vulture,’ said Viv, waving her hands in a definite gesture of ‘go stuff yourself.’

‘All right, all right,’ Heath conceded. ‘You did good for today. You can watch this one out.’ He walked into Frank’s cage with the hosepipe. Frank followed Heath around his aviary as if he were supervising. Then he tugged the hosepipe out of Heath’s hand. Heath picked it up and Frank went for it again. They had a gentle game of tug of war and Viv was mesmerised.

‘They don’t show you stuff like this on cowboy films, do they?’ Heath turned to her, a smile playing on his lips. ‘They get a very bad press.’

Viv found herself smiling in return.

‘You should open this place up to the public,’ she said.

‘It’s a sanctuary, Vivienne,’ Heath said, twisting off the tap. ‘A lot of these animals have been traumatised by what people have done to them. They don’t want to mix with any more strangers than they have to. Although I see your point. But there are other places who do that sort of educating. These guys are here to live out the rest of their lives in peace.’ He reached for the food bucket. ‘Okay, Frank, that’s you done for today. Time for food.’

Frank leaped on the meat and Heath watched him for a while, though Viv wondered if his thoughts were on the bird or far away.

‘I’ll see to the hawks myself. They need to fly before I feed them today. Why don’t you go back to the cottage and do what you have to do there. Can you ring the hospital and let me know if Geraldine needs picking up? They were waiting to hear what the consultant said when I phoned this morning. Will you check the answering machine as well, please. It should flash when there’s a message but it’s broken and doesn’t,’ Heath said.

‘Yes of course. Shall I put on some lunch? Spanish omelette? It won’t take long to make. I can use these.’ Viv lifted up the egg basket.

‘Thank you. That would be good. Forty-five minutes?’

Viv took the basket of eggs back to the cottage and at the door she turned and looked behind her. The sun was high in the sky, shining down on them all, whilst fingers of mist stole across the thousands of small bright blue flowers springing up from the earth as if preparing to pick them. It was such a beautiful valley. And the man she had moved here to get to know – and had hoped would want to know her too – was the one intent on destroying it.

Chapter 34

Stel had been busy that morning, which took her mind off Ian, but when the rush died down, her mini-depression returned and she sneaked off early for her lunch. Ian always came in at twelve for a cuppa to drink with his sandwiches. She put the kettle on ready for him, her whole body buzzing with anxiety.

She rolled her sandwich around in her mouth but she wasn’t hungry. The hands on the clock reached quarter past twelve and he hadn’t arrived. He was avoiding her, that was the only conclusion. She took her phone out of her bag and checked for texts and there were none. She turned the phone off and back on again in case there was a problem, but it all looked perfectly normal. Then her head shot up and with it her spirits as the door out to the garden opened and in walked Graham. But no Ian followed.

‘Hi, Graham,’ said Stel, trying to sound as if she wasn’t about to cry. ‘Is . . . is Ian coming in?’

‘No, he’s gone to the nursery. Not sure if he’ll be back today.’

‘Oh.’ The word was full of Stel’s sunken hope. She switched on a jolly smile; she probably went a bit overboard being chatty with Graham to cover up her disappointment. One date and she was totally out of synch: she felt some sensible part within shake its head at her in frustration. Fifty-two years old and she was behaving like a child.