Pink Wellies and Flat Caps (30 page)

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Authors: Lynda Renham

Tags: #Humor & Entertainment, #Humor, #Love; Sex & Marriage, #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #General Humor

BOOK: Pink Wellies and Flat Caps
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‘The thing is Ali,’ he says pulling me down beside him as I try to reach the kettle. ‘I know I’ve been a bloody fool. I said as much to Georgie.’

I bet she enjoyed that. It’s getting steamier than a sauna in here and it has nothing to do with sexual chemistry. I don’t even think a chocolate penis could help us right now. There isn’t a single stirring from any of my loins and I don’t think much is stirring in Charlie’s nether regions either.

‘Oh,’ I say, because
I don’t know what else to say.

There is silence, except for the bubbling of the kettle of course.

‘Charlie, I think I’ll turn the kettle off being as neither of us have croup.’

I jump up, relieved to be off the bed and take a moment to gather myself.

‘The thing is Charlie; I can’t just go back, not just like that.’

He waves a hand.

‘No no, I realise we can’t go back to the way things were. To be quite honest Ali, I wasn’t totally satisfied with our sex life. I know you were orgasmic every time but for me it was very unsatisfactory and …’

‘Orgasmic?’ I echo.

Bloody hell, that will teach me to writhe and convulse all over the place like a pilchard out of water, and what does he mean
unsatisfactory
?

‘You’ve been sleeping with someone else Charlie,’ I say, and wonder why I don’t get that familiar piercing in my heart.

‘That’s not strictly fair Ali, after all …’

‘And you took her on
our
honeymoon. She slept in our honeymoon suite. In
my
honeymoon bed and …’

Oh shut up Alice. She also had your honeymoon champagne and honeymoon hotel chocolates. What a bitch, and no doubt the special honeymoon beauty massage and not to mention the tiramisu.

‘I’m sorry I did that Alice. I think I was trying to find myself.’

‘A bit careless losing yourself in the first place,’ I quip, making tea with what boiled water there is left.

‘Whatever. But you must admit you’ve made a fool out of me with the stupid farming lark. I’m the chairperson of the London branch of
Freedom for Farm Animals Association
now. The president chose me personally and it doesn’t look good you getting all involved in farming now, does it?’

I try not to scoff.

‘Congratulations on being made chairman. I’m sure the animals of the world salute you.’

‘Chairperson, Ali. That’s the correct term. You don’t have to be demeaning.’

What a night. I’ve had three men interested in me in a matter of hours. Won’t Georgie be impressed and Cas dead jealous. That’s all very well but the truth is I don’t actually have a proper boyfriend any more do I? The boyfriend I did have has been sleeping with some big-breasted brunette who probably has an all-over bronze tan from my honeymoon in Italy. I don’t care if she got it from the sunbed in the hotel spa. The point is it is
my
suntan. All I have are broken nails and chilblains. Okay, maybe not the chilblains. I find myself thinking of little Chloe and tears blur my vision, and I spill some of the hot water onto the cabinet. Poor Edward, if only he had told me I could have been there with him when he put Chloe to sleep. I feel Charlie’s arms go around my waist.

‘It wasn’t that I stopped loving you Ali, I was just scared. I know now that it is you that I want. Only you.’

I sit on the bed nursing my cup of tea. I’ve no idea what to say to him. All I can think about is Chloe, and the milk licence, and the fruit cake I was making for the village coffee morning. He sits beside me and takes my hand.

‘You and I are right for each other. Okay, I made a mistake with Bianca. She didn’t understand about animal activism, and she was a bit dumb to tell you the truth.’

He squeezes my hand several times as one would a stress ball.

‘Say you’ll give me a second chance Ali. I promise to make everything up to you. I won’t leave you alone until you do.’

Oh that’s just wonderful isn’t it?

‘I love you Alice. It feels like we’ve always been together. You can forgive me for getting a bit of cold feet can’t you?’

He’s quite right I suppose. I’ve known Charlie for three years. Better the devil you know, another of my mother’s sayings, but it sort of makes sense.

‘Say yes, Ali.’

Well, how could I say anything else? Charlie is my ex-fiancé after all. In fact, if he hadn’t called things off he would be my husband now. I guess he deserves another chance doesn’t he? So, like a fool I agree to give him one.

Chapter Twenty-
Five

 

Edward was washing down the milk shed when I arrived back at Trenowyth. I had asked Charlie to stay in the car until I called him. I spend a few minutes with Pepper and fight the desire to scoop him up and take him back to London with me. Although, I really can’t picture him in a little pen in the living room of Charlie’s flat. I can’t really picture me there either, not in a little pen obviously, but in the new flat. It will seem so strange. Edward looks past me to Charlie’s car and then back to his hosing. I take a long deep breath of the fresh country air and sigh. I shall miss this all so much. I savour the sights and smells so I can imprint them on my mind forever. I glance at the chicken coop and fight the urge to fetch the feed. I give only a passing look to Chloe’s shed. The pain of her loss is still fresh. However, I feel sure I am doing the right thing. Wasn’t this what I had wished for, that Charlie would come to his senses and that I would return home to my life in the city?

‘I’ve come for my things,’ I say quietly.

‘Going back to London are you?’ he says abruptly, without looking at me.

‘Yes, I am.’

He stops and throws the hose down. Water splashes up my legs but I ignore it.

‘You should have your fancy pink wellies on. It’s slippery in here,’ he continues sharply, and I feel the tears I had been struggling to control prick my eyelids.

‘Edward …’ I begin,

He turns steely eyes onto me. His lips are tightly drawn together and his brow is furrowed. I want to run my hands through his hair and hold him close like I did yesterday. I move towards him but his words stop me in my tracks.

‘Luce is coming home. She phoned this morning. I told her about the milk licence. She wants me to sell Trenowyth and fly back to New Zealand with her.’

I gape at him.

‘But you can’t sell Trenowyth. You have the milk licence. You’re getting the farm on its feet. That’s what Martha said, just like your father wanted …’

‘The plan always was to join her in New Zealand,’ he says, cutting me short.

Why is he being so horrid to me? Didn’t our kiss mean anything to him?

‘But
…’

He picks up the hose roughly.

‘Is this why you’ve come back, to tell me how to run my farm?’

‘No, I
…’

‘You play at being the country girl for a few weeks and then think you’re qualified to give advice
.’

‘No, of course not, it’s just
…’

‘You’ve finished with the country now, is that it?’

‘Edward, it isn’t like that.’

He strides past and the hose hits my leg. I lose my footing and grab him for support. Suddenly I am pinned against the shed door as Edward holds my arms down with his. My body is on fire. The cows moo and retreat to the back of the shed. Please ask me to stay Edward, please and I will. His eyes bore into mine and his hands grip mine tighter. I find myself transported back to our kiss and my legs go weak.

‘Would you give everything up Alice, your cosy life in London and your friends, not to mention your affluent fiancé? Would you really prefer to rough it here where calves die and where the house leaks at the first spots of rain. It’s not all coffee mornings and cream teas you know. There is money but it is all ploughed back into the farm. There’s no luxury here Alice.’

‘I know,’ I say and hear my voice shake.

‘Do you?’

He doesn’t want me. He’s trying to get rid of me. He was just using me. He is no better than Dominic Montfort and now he is panicking because he thinks I have fallen in love with him. Damn him, damn him to hell.

‘No, you’re quite right. There is nothing here worth roughing it for. I’d much rather be in London and with Charlie,’ I say spitefully. ‘In fact, I wish I had never come here.’

Oh no, I didn’t mean that. He releases my hands and turns slowly from me.

‘Well I’ll always be glad you came,’ he says softly, and walks from the shed.

I go to follow him when I see Charlie getting out of his car and Jed and Martha approaching.

‘Alice,’ Jed calls.

I watch helplessly as Edward strides to the Land Rover and drives away without a second glance. I didn’t mean what I had said and bite my lip in regret.

‘Everything okay?’ asks Jed, turning off the hose. Martha looks at me forlornly.

‘You’re not really leaving are you?’ she asks.

‘I’m going back to London,’ I say as cheerfully as I can while tears threaten to pour forth.

‘We’re getting married,’ adds Charlie, throwing an arm around me.

‘That’s a surprise, we didn’t realise Alice had a fiancé,’ says Martha, narrowing her eyes at Charlie.

‘Congratulations,’ smiles Jed, but it’s a forced smile and his congratulations sound hollow. ‘We’ll see you again, no doubt.’

‘Oh I hope so Jed,’ I say, wrapping my arms around him and letting the tears flow.

 

But I know I will never see Edward again. He will sell the farm and fly out to New Zealand. My last memory of Edward will be him striding stiff backed to the Land Rover and driving away.

‘Look after P
epper for me,’ I say tearfully.

I cry even more when I feel Molly pawing at my legs.

‘We should get going,’ says Charlie, pushing Molly away and grimacing at the mud on his shoes. ‘You really shouldn’t have pigs locked in pens you know,’ he says sternly to Jed.

‘Charl
ie,’ I admonish, wiping my eyes. ‘He’s not locked in a pen.’

‘Not all pigs are locked in pens Charlie,’ quips Martha giving him a scathing look.

‘It’s cruel, and the same with those chickens. We’ll free the animals one day,’ he continues, waving his arms and pointing at the cows in the shed.

‘Now I am chairperson things will be different.’

‘Sorry Jed,’ I whisper as I kiss him on the cheek.

‘Remind me not to visit him in London,’ he whispers
. ‘We’ll miss you.’

I don’t ask who the
we
are, but hope he means Edward. Charlie helps me pack while lecturing me on the wrongs of livestock farming. I keep my ears cocked for the sound of Edward’s Land Rover and pack as slowly as I can in the hope that he will return and I can say goodbye properly. I finally make my tearful exit from Trenowyth with Molly’s doleful eyes following me into Charlie’s car.

‘Thank God for that. The smell is disgusting, I don’t know how you stood it,’ sighs Charlie.

I realise that for the first time ever I never even noticed it.

Chapter Twenty-
Six

 

‘Alice.’

I turn at the call of my name. Georgie is standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips.

‘Alice, where are you?’

‘What,’ I say, coming down to earth.

Georgie has come with me for the final fitting of my wedding dress. I stand looking like a giant ball of cotton wool, while Rita, the dressmaker, pulls frantically at the zip and I feel my face getting redder.

‘It’s no good,’ she puffs, wiping a thin bead of perspiration from her forehead
. ‘It’s stuck.’

Rita flaps her hand at my stomach.

‘You’ve swollen up,’ she says accusingly.

‘Oh God,’ groans Georgie and falls into a chair
. ‘You’re not up the spout are you?’

‘It’s water probably,’ I lie.

It’s all those fish and chips more like.

‘She’s got wedding stress, isn’t tha
t right?’ sighs Rita.

Although what stress has got to do with water retention I do not know. I shrug and Georgie shakes her head.

‘It’s all a bloody farce if you ask me,’ she grumbles.

I look out of the window.

‘What colour is the bouquet going to be?’ asks Rita before taking a deep breath and yanking at the zip again.

The mention of flowers pulls my mind back to Cornwall and St Matthew
’s church and I think of Edward. I did attempt to phone Trenowyth just once. I wanted to apologise for everything but someone else had answered the phone. It could have been Sara. I really wasn’t sure. But they had confirmed he was in New Zealand.

‘How about peach and cream, we have some lovely collections,’ smiles Rita, dazzling me with her sparkling white teeth.

‘Is it hot in New Zealand?’ I ask. ‘You know, at Christmas?’

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