‘I hope you don’t mind him crying on your shoulder,’ I say. ‘You two aren’t …?’
‘Oh no, he isn’t my type – and anyway, he’s far too wrapped up in you and what happened.’
‘Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever settle for anyone.’
‘You’re too fussy, Stevie. That’s your trouble. No one will ever be good enough for you.’
‘You make it sound as though there’s a queue of men waiting to knock down my door,’ I say dryly.
‘You never have any trouble attracting them.’
Do I detect a hint of bitterness in India’s voice? She’s the pretty one with model looks, not me, yet it’s true, I have more male friends and acquaintances than she does. I don’t go out looking for them. They seem to find me.
‘Leo’s different,’ I say.
‘OMG, men are all different when you first meet them. When you get to know them, they’re all pretty much the same.’
‘India! How can you say that?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. I’m tired. I’ve had a chaotic week. You know how it is.’
‘I do,’ I say, smiling.
‘How are the plans for the farm going?’ she asks, changing the subject.
‘You must come and stay sometime soon so I can show you. Keep in touch. I’ve got to go.’ I still have loads to do.
Chapter Ten
Animal Farm
Leo tells me to stop apologising for the mobile home when he drops by the following day because it’s just what he’s been looking for.
‘You haven’t been inside yet,’ I say as I unlock the door and inhale a draught of bleach-laden air. ‘It’s going to be pretty hot in here in the summer.’
‘It’s perfect, Stevie,’ he says, as if I’m offering him the run of Buckingham Palace. Leo squeezes past me in the tiny hallway, brushing his arm against mine. I catch his scent of aftershave and penicillin and my unruly heart misses a beat because, although my motives for inviting this almost irresistible man to live effectively next door are purely altruistic … Fingers of heat creep up the back of my neck at the thought I might give away my feelings for him, because he is very attractive and I’m a lonely lady farmer …
‘I’ll wait for you to have a look around,’ I say, taking a seat at the table in the open-plan kitchen diner living area, which has chintz curtains to match the sofa covers, a scuffed lino floor and cheap veneered units.
‘It’s small, but it has everything I need and more,’ Leo says cheerfully. ‘What are the neighbours like?’ he laughs. He moves across to the sink to look out of the window. I get up to join him so we’re standing close together, side by side.
‘I’m sorry about the view,’ I say, looking out at the weeds dying in the stone trough and the tumbledown walls of the cowshed.
‘I’d say I have a pretty good view from here,’ he says, glancing out of the corner of his eye, and I start to feel a little giddy and weak at the knees.
Suddenly, though, Leo jumps back and moves behind me, hanging on to me by the shoulders, making my heart beat even faster than it already was.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
‘There’s a spider in the sink.’
‘I forgot to mention you’d have to share.’ Leo doesn’t seem to get the joke. ‘Where is it?’ I can feel his body pressed against mine as he peers past me. ‘I can’t see one.’
‘It’s beside the plughole. You can’t miss it – it’s enormous,’ Leo gasps.
A spider crawls out from underneath one of the rubber gloves I left in the sink. ‘I’d say that was a medium.’
‘It’s massive.’
I start to laugh as I pick the spider up, caging it in my hands. I turn and hold it up to him, but he backs right into the cupboard behind us, his face pale, and keeping me at arm’s length. I try to duck closer.
‘No, Stevie,’ he says sharply, and I realise he’s serious. ‘Take it away. Please!’
‘I’ll put it outside in the barn. It’s only a spider.’
He stands well clear as I pass him, folding his arms across his chest and grimacing, and when I return inside, he’s waiting to grab me and give me a hug.
‘Thank you for saving my life,’ he says, his hands around my back, pulling me close.
‘I didn’t realise you could be so melodramatic.’
‘I’m not talking about the eight-legged monster. I mean with the caravan. I don’t think I could have stayed with the Pitts another night. I had to play Top Trumps for three hours after work.’
‘Now I’ve looked at the place, it isn’t all that great. Couldn’t you have stayed with Alex Fox-Gifford? I thought there would be plenty of room at Talyton Manor.’
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to fraternise with the boss, although I’m tempted to get to know my landlady a whole lot better.’ Leo touches his lips to my forehead before gazing hungrily into my eyes and, for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me on the lips, but we’re interrupted by the sound of Cecil’s voice.
‘Is everything all right in there? I thought I heard someone in trouble.’
‘Everything’s fine,’ I call back, moving away from Leo and looking out of the door of the mobile home. Leo is behind me. ‘Leo was in a bit of bother.’
‘It’s nothing,’ Leo says quickly.
‘That’s all right then,’ Cecil says before he walks away with his metal bucket of scraps to feed the hens.
‘I didn’t think—’ I begin.
‘I’d never live it down if that got out.’ Leo grins. ‘A large animal vet who’s scared of spiders. I have a phobia of them. I used to have a recurring nightmare when I was a child about spiders getting trapped in my hair.’
‘That is quite weird.’
‘It’s one of the reasons I didn’t become a zoo vet,’ Leo explains. ‘You did release it far enough away for it not to find its way back?’
‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ I grin, but then hesitate as I see his expression. ‘You really do have it bad.’
‘I can’t stand them.’
‘There could be mice,’ I say, testing him.
‘I don’t mind warm furry things.’ He gives me another cheeky grin. ‘Why don’t I take you out for a meal at the weekend? I’ll make sure you’re home early. I know you have to get up in the morning.’
‘A date, you mean?’ My heart is doing somersaults.
‘It can be whatever you like,’ he says, blushing. ‘Alex recommends the Barnscote Hotel or the new Indian on the seafront at Talymouth. Are you free on Saturday night?’
‘Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks, Leo.’
‘If it’s okay with you, I’ll bring my things over this evening after work.’
Unable to stop smiling, I give him the key.
‘Thank you, Stevie,’ he says, and if I wasn’t completely besotted with him before, I am now.
‘So you’re going out with Leo?’ Cecil says, when I mention that I want to finish the milking in good time on the following Saturday afternoon. ‘He’s a catch.’
I’m in the parlour with him, having turned on the milking machine in the dairy.
‘We’re going out for a meal, that’s all. Come on, let’s call the girls in and get this party started.’
Cecil stares at me as if he thinks I’m slightly touched. He takes his cap off to scratch his head and puts it back on again at an angle.
‘It’s a figure of speech,’ I explain.
The milking goes smoothly and Cecil offers to hose down the parlour at the end so I can go and shower and change. I choose one of my London outfits, nothing too over the top – a strappy lilac top with a diamante detail across the front, a smart jacket, navy trousers and heels – and I’m ready when Leo knocks at the front door of the farmhouse. Bear runs up barking.
‘Go away,’ I tell him as I open the door to greet Leo, who looks me up and down, pursing his lips in what I hope is admiration.
‘Stevie, you look …’
‘Different?’ I say, wondering if I should hav
e worn my jeans.
‘No … Well, yes. That’s quite some transformation.’ Leo smiles and leans forward to kiss me briefly on the cheek. ‘You scrub up well.’
‘Thank you.’ I glance down at my chipped nails – I’ve done my best.
‘Shall we go?’ Leo says. I hear my father’s stick tapping along the hallway towards us.
‘What time will you be back, Stevie?’ he calls.
‘It doesn’t matter, Dad. I can let myself in.’
‘I’ll make sure she’s home by midnight, like Cinderella,’ Leo says, amused.
‘You’d better, young lad.’
‘Dad, leave it,’ I say. ‘You are so embarrassing. Come on, Leo. Let’s go.’
It’s a relief to get away from the farm for a while. With Leo, I can almost forget about my father, the money and the project. I can change out of my wellies, dress up and be normal, except I find myself talking about the show and the cows and the project on the way to Talymouth.
‘Tell me if I talk too much,’ I say, and Leo is grinning as he parks the four-by-four in a space a few metres from the Taj Mahal, which looks out over the seafront.
Inside, Leo orders vindaloo and a beer, while I order korma and red wine, and I wonder briefly if we’re incompatible, but we have plenty to talk about, including his plans for when he’s finished working for Alex Fox-Gifford.
‘Do you have any idea where you’ll end up next?’ I ask. ‘I mean, do you plan in advance or do you go with the flow?’
‘I have a long-term plan to emigrate.’
‘To go abroad?’
‘I believe that’s part of it,’ Leo says, amused. ‘I have a friend with a practice in New Zealand and we’ve always talked about becoming partners and working together. There’s nothing to keep me here in the UK.’
There’s me, I want to say. Leo reaches out and covers my hand as if reading my disappointment, because – I know it’s really early days, and this is only a first date – I had already thought he could always find work not too far away when this job ended, but New Zealand? That’s an entirely different matter.
‘That might be changing,’ Leo says gently. ‘I can be flexible.’
‘You said you have a sister. Aren’t you close? Wouldn’t you miss her?’
‘We were close, but a lot’s happened. We haven’t fallen out. We find it –’ Leo bites his lip – ‘painful to see each other.’ He pulls his wallet from his pocket, opens it up and shows me a photo of a young boy of about two years old, hugging a toy car and grinning from ear to ear. ‘I’m sorry. This is a bit heavy for a first date, and I don’t usually talk about him, but I want to tell you, Stevie.’
‘He’s gorgeous,’ I say. There is something special about the boy, an ethereal quality. ‘Who is he?’
‘My nephew, Jonas. He died.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ I don’t know what else to say.
‘Jonas was born with a hole in his heart. Nobody suspected it at the time, and it wasn’t until he was two that we noticed from a photograph that he was turning blue. He had lots of tests and surgery, and he was doing really well until about three weeks later.’ Leo shudders. ‘I remember the day like it was yesterday. I was working near my sister’s – I’d been working for a couple of practices as a locum so I could be there in case they needed me – when I got the call to go to the hospital. Jonas had collapsed at home and been rushed to intensive care. I saw him, but it was too late. He died in my sister’s arms.’
I look at his face. He’s distraught.
‘I loved that boy. We all did. I felt we had a special bond. He called me Unca Oeli because he couldn’t say Leo. I did loads of research and talked to doctors on the family’s behalf, but I still couldn’t save him.’
‘So you do like children?’ I say. ‘You don’t hate them at all.’
‘They remind me of Jonas and how unfair life is. I could never have my own child. I’d worry this heart defect Jonas had was hereditary.’
‘Isn’t there a test for it?’
Leo shakes his head.
‘What makes you think you’d pass it on to your children?’
‘There’s no particular reason. It’s my gut instinct telling me not to risk it, not to put another child through what my nephew went through in his short life.’
‘It was a happy life?’ I ask.
‘We made it as happy as we could.’
‘Surely, you’d want to share that love you felt with another child one day,’ I say, picking my words carefully.
‘Jonas’s heart was broken. When he died, mine broke too, as did my sister’s.’
Life can be a bitch, I know that, but to deny your loving nature and your desire to have a family because of one cruel accident of fate seems rather extreme to me.
‘I’m afraid that if I get close to any child …’ Leo’s voice falters before returning more strongly. ‘You know what I’m getting at. There isn’t a day that goes by without me wondering what he would be doing if he’d had the opportunity to grow up like an ordinary boy.’
‘What about your sister? How does she cope?’ I ask.
‘We’ve coped in different ways. She’s gone on to have another baby.’
‘That’s nice,’ I say hesitantly.
‘It feels like as soon as she replaced Jonas with another child, she forgot about him.’
‘I’m sure that isn’t the case.’
Leo shrugs. ‘Maybe not, but that’s how it feels. I’ve been a bit of a coward. I didn’t like to see my sister because it reminded me of what we all went through, and now I hardly see her at all.’ I wait for him to continue. ‘Let’s change the subject,’ he says, closing his wallet. ‘Does your brother have any kids?’
‘He has a stepdaughter and a girl of his own.’ After Leo’s experience, I can’t bring myself to mention that I’ve seen very little of them, so we go on to talk about less intense subjects – where we’ve travelled and what food we enjoy. At the end of dinner, Leo suggests that, as it’s relatively warm for early May, we grab a couple of coats from his four-by-four and take a walk on the beach. But then he remembers I’m wearing heels.
‘No, it’ll be fine. I’ll take them off,’ I say. ‘Let’s walk. It’ll be fun.’
When we reach the sand at the base of the steps, I slip out of my shoes and carry them, walking hand in hand with Leo down to the sea where the silvery reflection of the moon is dancing on the water. The soft sand slides between my toes as we hesitate.
‘Shall we?’ Leo asks in a low voice.
‘Yes, but you’ll have to take your shoes off too.’
Leo uses my arm to balance himself as he kicks off his shoes without untying the laces. As he straightens, he moves his hand around my back and holds on to the curve of my waist. ‘Are you ready?’ he says.
I take a step forwards, placing my foot on the cold, wet sand and waiting for the next wave to roll in and break across my toes.
‘It’s freezing!’ I scream. I would run away, but Leo is hanging on to me, laughing at my reaction.
‘It’s tropical, Stevie.’
‘You are joking?’ I turn to him. His eyes flash in the dark.
He pulls me close and somehow I’m in his arms and up to my ankles in the waves, and although my feet are cold, the rest of my body is shot through with heat and my heart is pounding with desire as he presses his lips very gently against mine.
‘I’m not joking now though,’ he murmurs, and he doesn’t stop kissing me – nor I him – apart from on the brief trip back to the farm, where he escorts me to the top of the steps down to the front door and takes me in his arms, tangling his fingers in my hair at the nape of my neck and kissing me again.
A light comes on and my heart sinks. I push Leo gently away.
‘That’ll be my father spying on us.’
‘Does it matter?’ Leo pulls me back. Giggling, I let him. ‘You don’t want to …’ He glances towards the mobile home, but seems to change his mind when he hears the click of the lock on t
he front door as my father opens it, exposing us to the glare of a storm lantern.
‘I thought I heard intruders,’ he says, but I know he’s lying. Bear would have barked. He’s being nosy, checking up on me.
‘Thanks for a wonderful evening, Stevie,’ Leo says. ‘Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight, Leo,’ I say regretfully, as he takes a step back, putting some space between us. ‘Thank you for that, Dad,’ I add as Leo strides away across the farmyard. ‘I’m almost thirty and you’re still trying to ruin my love life.’
‘Where are you going now in those clothes?’ he says.
‘To check on the calves.’ I glance down at my feet. ‘I’ll just throw on a coat and change my shoes.’
‘Shouldn’t you be going to bed?’
I want to say, ‘Yes, with Leo,’ to wind him up, but it’s too close to the truth. If Leo had asked me, would I have stopped at a kiss?
It’s the beginning of June and Leo has been ensconced in the caravan for three weeks. He’s made some improvements – there’s a boot rack outside for his wellies, a clotheshorse for his waterproofs and a pot of yellow tulips. I’m half expecting him to put up a white picket fence like the ones at the caravan park in Talysands. We have spent a couple of evenings sitting chatting, drinking tea and kissing, but he hasn’t suggested a second date and, even if he asked me, I’m not sure how I’d respond. I’m torn between wanting to take things further and holding back because, in spite of what he said in the restaurant about being open to altering his plans, it doesn’t seem very likely and I’m naturally wary of making any kind of commitment, emotional or physical, to someone who cannot commit to me. I’m assuming Leo has guessed why I’m hesitant, which is why he’s been a gentleman and backed off.
I wonder too when I’m sitting in the house with the windows open, drawing up my plans for the farm, listening to him singing ballads along to his guitar, if he’s withdrawn a little because he’s embarrassed about having revealed more than he intended of his emotions over the loss of his nephew, and sometimes I tell myself I’m reading too much into it. Perhaps nothing has changed because we’ve both been rushed off our feet, Leo working for the practice and me consumed by the challenge of taking on the farm.
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