Pink Wellies and Flat Caps (21 page)

‘What? Do you want a drink Edward?’

‘There are buckets of alcohol here,’ chuckles Cas. ‘What’s your poison Edward?’

Edward rubs his eyes tiredly.

‘Thank you but not right now.’

The waitress hovers around our table, pen and pad in hand.

‘You need to chill Edward, have some fun,’ says Dominic dryly.

My stomach churns and I feel the lamb shank and celeriac mash rise up. Please don’t let me throw up all over Edward, please God. Edward gives Dominic such a hateful look that I feel sure it sends a hush over the pub.

‘I don’t need you to tell me how to have fun.’

‘Ooh handbags at dawn I think,’ I hear Casper whisper.

‘Alice, you left the gate open,’ snaps Edward. ‘It’s mayhem. I’ve got cows everywhere. Why don’t you think woman?’

Shit.

‘Oh Edward,’ I say, and move to take a step towards him when my skirt slides down, landing in a heap around my ankles. Piss it.

‘Oh shit,’ groans Cas, ‘you’ve just dropped your skirt.’

‘Cas states the bloody obvious,’ mumbles Georgie.

‘Oh well, at least it wasn’t your knickers,’ he adds.

Cas
, please shut up.

‘I’ll help you, Ted,’ says Jed, standing up and pulling some money from his wallet.

‘Don’t you think you’re making a hell of a fuss over nothing Edward? You’ll get them all back,’ says Dominic irritably. ‘Of course if you sold the farm you’d be free of these hassles.’

Georgie helps to pull the skirt up at the back while I struggle with the front. This couldn’t be more mortifying. Edward steps menacingly towards Dominic and my lamb shank moves menacingly higher up my oesophagus. Cas jumps from his seat and drapes an arm around Edward’s shoulders.

‘Buggeration. Sorry Edward, it was me. What do I know? I’m bloody gay and from London. We’re a despicable lot, so I’m damned before I start. Let me come and help round them up. I’ve always wanted to do the
Brokeback Mountain
thing. You lot finish here and we’ll see you back at the ranch. Come on Edward, you can show me your cock too. I was asking about it only this afternoon, the cock that goes with the chickens of course.’

W
here do I put my face? There is a deathly silence. Edward gives me a piercing stare and walks out. Five minutes later I am throwing up in the loo.

***

I give Georgie a hug and inhale her Chanel perfume, transporting myself back to London.

‘God, I so miss you, and London and everything,’ I sigh wistfully.

‘I know. It’s pants, it really is. I bloody hate Charlie,’ she says hugging me even tighter. ‘We’ll be back, and you’ll come up to London won’t you?’

I nod miserably. We peep round the corner to see Cas fighting Molly off his crotch and dancing away from the pecking hens, while trying to conduct a conversation with Edward.

‘Cas has had a good time anyway,’ laughs Georgie, ‘and so have I. I’m totally taken with these countrymen,’ she laughs.

I, however, feel dead depressed. Edward, though perfectly friendly to Georgie and Cas has barely spoken one word to me. I’ve got the mother of all hangovers to top it all. Now he walks towards us smiling broadly at Georgie. God forbid he might give me one. A smile I mean, obviously, anything else is out of the question. I’m seriously tempted to grab my case and jump in the car with them. I walk past him towards Cas, lifting my head in the most hoity
-toity manner I can manage. He might have told me he had a fiancée. I attempt to hug Cas with Molly wedged between us.

‘You can’t break up a relationship like ours,’ he jokes, patting Molly as he kisses me.

‘I’m so sorry about the gate thing,’ I apologise. ‘I don’t know what happened.’

‘Well I do darling,’ he says encircling my waist
. ‘Mr Montfort left the gate open and …’

I pull back sharply and glare at him. What is he saying?

‘But you said that you …’

‘I know what I said, but that was to stop bloodshed. You know I faint at the sight of blood. He left it open darling. Oh, I’m not saying deliberately, he’s just so into himself he probably didn’t notice but he was deliberately provocative in the pub.’

He pulls me back into his arms as Edward approaches.

‘Edward’s all right. I like him. Just be careful sweetie, okay?’
he whispers and then says loudly,

‘Come up to London soon darling, before you turn into Helen Archer.’

Edward and I watch them climb into the car and wave until it disappears at the end of the lane.

‘You’ve got nice friends,’ he comments as he turns to the house.

‘Oh I see.’

What does that mean? What do I see exactly? I follow him into the kitchen.

‘I’m moving the sheep to another field today so they can graze, and then I’m going to the cattle auction. You’re welcome to come, unless you have something else planned,’ he says, snapping the ring on a can of coke.

‘So I’m pretty awful, but I have nice friends?’ I say eventually, grabbing a bottle of water for myself.

‘I didn’t mention you,’ he says abruptly, walking past me.

‘You’ve got nice friends said it all didn’t it?’

Do shut up Alice. You’re seriously in danger of making a fool of yourself.

‘Seeing as that was all I had to say I suppose it did say it all.’

Why does he have to be so bloody logical? He opens the back door and is halfway through when I remember the phone call.

‘Your fiancée phoned yesterday. She was quite annoyed that you weren’t here and that your mobile was off.’

He stops and seems to struggle for something to say. After what feels like an eternity, he says,

‘I’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes if you want to come. Although, I don’t imagine it’s your cup of tea. I need a bull.’

Don’t we all? And if that wasn’t a red rag to one, what was? Even if I seriously didn’t want to go, nothing is going to stop me now is it? Unless of course …

‘Doesn’t Sara want to go?’

He shrugs.

‘I didn’t ask her. I’ll see you in a bit.’

***

True to his word, twenty minutes later he is back. I have changed into my jeans and the thick Ar
an jumper I had bought at Sue Ryder. I’m still horribly hungover, and my head feels like someone has just walloped it with a hammer, but otherwise I look okay. I leave my hair loose because I cannot bear the pull of a scrunchie. I rub some cream blusher on my cheeks and pop in some drop-pearl earrings. He takes one look at me and says,

‘You’ll need
wellingtons. It’s not a fashion show.’

I blush. How does he always manage to make me feel like a prize prat city girl? I raise my hand in a salute.

‘Yes sir.’

He opens his mouth to speak but stops at the sound of a car d
riving into the yard. There is loud hooting followed by Molly’s insistent bark. The door flies open and a flushed and breathless Jed stands in front of us.

‘Rob Marcham’s just taken a serious tumble on Mabel. They’ve rushed him to hospital but Mabel’s in a bad state and
… well she needs tranquillising and …’

‘We’ll come now,’ interrupts Edward.

We? What does he mean, we? And who the hell is Mabel? How can someone be in hospital after a tumble?

‘I’ll
just get my gun,’ says Edward.

‘Alice can you drive the Land Rover? I’ll go with Jed and he can fill me in on the way.’

Saints alive, what does he need a gun for? Is Mable a psycho or something? Heavens, she must be if she needs tranquillising. Hold on a minute, I’m not sure I want to go, at least, not unarmed, and I don’t see him offering me a gun.

‘Well
…’ I begin, but the room is empty. Jed has raced back outside and Edward is thumping around upstairs. I should have bought that shotgun after all. My head is pounding. Why did I drink so much? I never drank this much with Charlie. Edward rushes back into the kitchen and throws me the keys. Even in my fragile hungover state I still manage to catch them expertly. It’s only ten o’clock. I’m never going to make it through the day at this rate. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and run after them.

‘But
…’ I begin and find myself diving into the Land Rover as they shoot off without giving me a second glance.

I drive at breakneck speed, crunching the gears as I try to keep up with them. I pray that the pheasants will stay out of my way, or there will be utter carnage. Although by the sound of it, there is utter carnage at Mabel’s place. Christ, what am I doing driving into a dangerous situation. Women are constantly being advised not to do this kind of thing, and what do I do? Jed suddenl
y turns right and I have to brake sharply and find myself skidding and taking the corner on one wheel. It is like something out of
Top Gear
. The Land Rover, which seriously lacks suspension, bounces back onto the road with a thump, and my head pounds even more. I really can’t believe I am doing this while Charlie is on
our
honeymoon with Big Tits. As I am being mowed down by some mad woman, Charlie will be sunning himself at our luxury hotel. What an utter bastard. Jed slows up and indicates left. I follow him through a gateway and down a long driveway. Ahead of us is a farmhouse where a middle-aged woman waves frantically. If this is Mabel then I have to agree that she most certainly needs tranquillising. I’m going to refuse to get out of the Land Rover until she is. She runs and puts her arms around Edward and then points to a field ahead of them. Edward looks over at me and then pushes Mabel into the arms of Jed before beckoning to me to leave the Land Rover. Surely he isn’t serious? I shake my head and he approaches with his usual cross look. I wind down the window.

‘Alice, I’m sorry to ask you, but I need someone with me. I may have to shoot Mabel and
…’

‘What!’ I scream. ‘But you can’t, you just can’t. I mean, I can’t possibly, I mean, it’s monstrous. Oh God, Edward
…’

Tears spring to my eyes.

‘Alice, it’s how it’s done in the country,’ he says gently. ‘I know you don’t understand. I realise these things rarely happen in the city …’

‘Not with this kind of callous calmness they don’t. In London it’s
down a dark alley usually. But this is just horrific. I’m calling the police Edward, I’m sorry,’ I say, hiccupping between my tears.

I pull my Nokia from my bag and his hand reaches out roughly to stop me.

‘Alice, don’t you think you’re overreacting. You can’t call the police because I’m going to shoot a horse.’

‘A horse? Y
ou’re going to shoot a horse, not her?’ I say, pointing to the woman.

He sighs.

‘I need Jed to stay with Frances, she’s too distressed and she doesn’t know you. Look, it doesn’t matter, just wait here.’

‘No, I’ll come,’ I say, feeling a sudden surge of courage which I’m sure will wear off as soon as I enter the field. I stupidly can’t bear him to think badly of me, although God knows why I should even care. He gives me a grateful smile, and I feel all benevolent and very Princess Diana-ish. Then I see poor Mabel lying in the field. She is struggling to get up but the effort seems to have worn her out, and at the sight of Edward she sighs and flops back down. Edward kneels beside her and whispers softly in her ear. Oh God, this is awful. I can’t possibly stay here. I turn to go back but am stopped by Edward’s voice. I wonder if he talks to his fiancée in this tone.

‘Can you stroke her forehead gently, and talk to her while I give her an injection and check over her leg. Imagine it’s Chloe.’

He says it so softly that I have to get closer to him to hear. The grass is damp under me and smells sweet. I don’t want to imagine this is Chloe. I don’t ever want Edward to give Chloe an injection. I most certainly do not want him to shoot her. I gently stroke Mabel’s head.

‘Don’t show your emotions, she’ll pick up on them right away. Be soft and gentle, it’s the kindest thing you can do right now.’

H
e places his hands over her body. Oh sod this. Why can’t I be lying by a pool with Charlie? That’s where I should be. Covering myself in Ambre Solaire and dripping lovely Italian ice cream onto my well-oiled body while admiring my new wedding ring. I swallow back the tears that threaten to engulf me and stroke Mabel’s head in a back and forth rhythmic motion. She twitches slightly as he injects her and Edward’s hand touches mine as he also strokes around her ears and around her jaw.

‘That’s a good girl Mabel, you’re doing brilliant
ly aren’t you my beauty.’

I suddenly so want to be Mabel. Not shot in the head obviously, I mean, that goes without saying, but to have Edward talk to me in that way and to touch me with those caressing hands. I shake my head of all thoughts and remind myself he has a fiancée. Mabel looks at him with such doleful eyes that I have to look away. He pulls away from her with a drawn out exhalation and tak
es the gun from his bag. I feel like I am unable to breathe. I can’t do this, but I find I am. I stroke Mabel’s back as Edward comes closer with the gun, the whole time he talks so softly and calmly to Mable that I feel tranquilised also. I jump at the sound of the shot and fall back onto the ground in shock. I hear a cry from the farmhouse and feel tears dampen my cheeks.