by Lucy Daniels
Douglas did not hesitate for a moment. Kicking Munro into a gallop, he roared ahead of the cows. ‘HeiYA!’ he whooped. ‘GET ON!’
The cows checked. They stared for a moment, snorting, then turned and trotted through the gate as if the outcome had never been in doubt.
‘You did it!’ Susan cheered.
Douglas flashed her a grin and Susan felt a flutter in her chest that wasn’t entirely to do with the adrenaline of herding the cows. ‘We did it,’ he corrected her.
Mandy was standing on the far side of the gate, hiding behind the wall. As Susan slowed to a walk, she saw Mr Loxhill rushing down the hill on a quad-bike. His face was worried. He drew to a halt beside Mandy.
‘Brilliant herding!’ Mandy grinned up at Douglas. ‘Where’d you learn to do that?’
Douglas beamed. ‘I used to help out with the North Country Cheviots that belonged to my neighbour. They’re sheep, but they’re just as thrawn as Highlanders. I’ve never herded anything on horseback before, though. Think I’d have made a cowboy? Howdy, pardner!’ He seemed amused, now the cows were out of danger.
Susan laughed. ‘I think you might need to practise your accent,’ she said.
Mandy chuckled, but Mr Loxhill didn’t join in. He still looked concerned. ‘Thanks very much for bringing them out,’ he said, ‘but I’ve no idea what I’m going to do with them. If that field’s flooded, the whole valley’s at risk. It’s already lapping at the door of my barn.’ He put his hands on his hips and glanced around, as if hoping an answer would present itself.
‘There’s probably space up at Wildacre,’ Mandy suggested. ‘I’ve an empty paddock and plenty of space in the barn if they don’t mind sharing with a few chickens.’
Mr Loxhill looked at her. ‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘It really would be a help.’
‘Of course,’ Mandy smiled.
‘What’s the best way to get them there?’ Mr Loxhill asked. He glanced around as if trying to decide. ‘We could go along the road, I suppose, but it’s busy at this time with the Walton traffic and it’s getting dark.’
It was, Susan realised as she glanced upwards. The sky had clouded over again. Dusk was falling. ‘We came along the bridleway,’ she said. ‘If we can get the cows over the bridge, we could take them along that way.’
‘Good idea,’ Mandy said. ‘It’s only a couple of hundred yards from there to the Wildacre turnoff. I’ll take the car round and stop any traffic.’
The cattle were nervous crossing the bridge, but with Douglas, Susan and Mr Loxhill all urging them along, they soon had the cattle heading along the bridle path. Douglas managed to pass them before they got to the road. Mandy was waiting there as promised, headlights beaming. It was starting to rain again.
Mandy followed them along the road in the RAV4 and together, they drove the exhausted cattle all the way up to Wildacre. Jimmy appeared as they reached the top of the track. ‘Barn door’s open,’ he shouted.
A few minutes later, all the cows were safely inside Mandy’s barn. Now that the emergency was over, Susan suddenly remembered Molly. She’d be wondering where on earth they’d got to. ‘Mandy,’ she called out. ‘We’ll need to head back before it’s completely dark. Could you let Molly know where we are, please?’
Mandy, who had closed the door of the barn and was discussing the logistics of feeding the cattle with Mr Loxhill, looked up at her. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell her you’ll be back in a few minutes. Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ Susan assured her. Despite being wet and a little tired, she was feeling astonishingly cheerful. A few minutes later, she and Douglas had made their way down the road and back into the stable yard. Susan couldn’t stop herself from stealing covert glances at Douglas. As he rode confidently through the rain he looked like a romantic hero. Who would have thought it? She smiled to herself, remembering her first impression of him in the classroom.
Molly came rushing out to meet them. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. ‘I hear you’ve been rescuing Mr Loxhill’s cattle.’ She came over and held Coco’s head as Susan pulled her feet out of the stirrups and dismounted. She landed rather stiffly. It had been a long time since she’d spent quite so long in the saddle. Douglas dismounted as well and Molly returned to put Munro in his stable.
‘You too should go home and get dry,’ she ordered with a nod. ‘Nicole’s here. We’ll get them sorted out.’
Susan smiled and Douglas saluted. ‘Yes, boss,’ he said to Molly, who grinned.
‘It’s not every day I get to welcome back two heroes on horseback,’ she said. ‘Give me your hat, Douglas, and I’ll put it away for you.’
She took Munro and Douglas’s helmet and disappeared at a run. Susan found herself alone with Douglas. She felt suddenly shy. He had been so brilliant back there with the cattle. He moved closer to her. His eyes were shining in the dim yellow lights that dotted the yard. ‘You were amazing,’ he said softly. He smiled down at her and reached out to take her hand. Despite the rain that was still falling, Susan had no wish to move away.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You were amazing …’ She felt suddenly breathless. His body was so close. Desire coursed through her.
The phone in her pocket buzzed and she cursed softly under her breath. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I’d better get this.’ She pulled the mobile from her pocket.
It was Miranda. ‘Where on earth are you?’ Miranda trilled. ‘Jack and I are waiting outside the door. I forgot to bring the key. Will you be long?’
‘Sorry, Mum. Long story but I’m on my way.’ Susan sighed as she pushed the phone back into her pocket. Douglas was still smiling, but the moment had passed. ‘Mum duties calling. Thanks for this afternoon,’ she said.
Douglas shook his head. ‘It’s Mandy you should thank,’ he said. ‘I’m glad she set this up.’
‘Me too,’ Susan admitted. She paused for a moment, gathering her nerve. ‘So, do you think you might want to try again? This dating thing, I mean … I’d like to if you would.’ She felt herself flushing bright red.
Douglas smiled. ‘I’ll give you a call,’ he said. ‘Very soon.’
He opened the door of her car and waited while she climbed in.’
‘So long, partner,’ Susan joked.
Douglas beamed and closed the car door with a hearty, ‘Yee ha!’
Susan laughed as she started the engine.
Who says a romantic hero can’t be a bit silly too?
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Hello, Susan? Douglas here!’
Even though she had to hold the phone away from her ear because the booming Scottish voice was so loud, Susan was smiling widely to herself and struggling to contain her excitement. He’s called! ‘Hi, Douglas,’ she managed, as casually as she could. ‘How are you?’
‘Oh I’m fine,’ Douglas said. ‘Just about dried out after yesterday! But I’m actually ringing up about a rather serious matter.’
Susan wondered what on earth it could be. He sounded almost as serious as he had when he’d been herding the cows.
‘Of course, I would love to take you on another date, if you’d like,’ Douglas went on. ‘But before I can, there is another very important commitment I must honour. Can I come over and paint Jack’s mural someday soon?’
Susan felt pure happiness rising in her chest. Had she finally found a man whom she liked, who liked her and accepted Jack? Not just accepted, but seemed to actively want to get to know him and be kind to him? ‘That would be amazing!’ she replied. ‘We’re free tomorrow evening. Would that work?’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Douglas. ‘I’ll come at six. I can’t wait to see you again,’ he added, softly.
The next day, Susan sat beside the window, watching for Douglas’s car. He was due in a few minutes. Jack knew he was coming but he was upstairs. Susan hoped she would be able to grab a minute or two alone with Douglas. She rushed to the door as his car drew up. Stepping out onto the doorstep, she pulled the front door to
behind her and grinned as he climbed out of his car and strolled towards her.
‘Hi,’ she said. A wave of happiness was flooding her body.
He smiled down at her as he reached her side. She couldn’t help but smile back as she gazed up at him. His hair was back in its old style, a happy medium between its tousled primary-school-author-visit state and too-stern slickness. He looked wonderful. He came to a stop so close that she felt breathless. He lifted a hand and placed it gently on her waist. He was going to kiss her, she thought. There were butterflies in her stomach. She lifted her face to his as he leaned forward.
‘Hi, Douglas!’ The yell came from the doorway. Jack pulled the door open wide with a welcoming grin. ‘Come in.’
Douglas straightened then laughed. He removed his hand from Susan’s waist and sent a rueful shrug in her direction.
They trooped upstairs together. Susan had readied the room. Sheets covered the floor and furniture. Jack had some paper and paints ready so that he could paint as well. Susan watched as Douglas set out his painting things. He seemed very efficient as he took out several different-sized brushes and a number of small pots of paints.
‘So what should I paint, Jack?’ he asked. A moment later, they were deep in discussion about seasons and plants, animals and insects.
Susan had brought up the last of her Christmas cards to write. She sat down at the covered desk with good intentions, but it was distracting having Douglas in the room. Her eyes were drawn to him continually. She had watched him sketching before. He painted with the same intensity. His usually wild movements were contained and controlled. After only a few minutes, she set the cards aside and put down her pen to watch.
Despite his fierce concentration, Douglas seemed able to manage a running commentary as Jack asked him question after question.
‘Do you like football, Douglas?’
Douglas frowned very slightly as he inspected the flowing line he had just added. Then he glanced in Jack’s direction with raised eyebrows and a smile. ‘I do like football.’ He nodded once, then bent again to add another brush stroke.
‘What’s your team?’
Again the pause as he inspected the line he had added. It was amazing how his pictures took shape. He glanced again at Jack. ‘Manchester City,’ he said.
‘Boo!’ Jack’s voice rose to a shout and Douglas sat up and looked round properly. He was grinning. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a United fan,’ he said. He feigned a look of horror, his mouth turning down as he held his hands in the air and he waved the paintbrush as if in disdain.
Jack glared at him. ‘Well, look at these,’ he said and pulled up the hems of his trousers to reveal a pair of red and white socks. ‘United are way better than City,’ he declared.
Douglas wrinkled his nose and shook his head with a mock grimace. ‘They are not,’ he growled.
Jack narrowed his eyes. He was holding a paintbrush in his hand. It was full of red paint. ‘Are!’ he shouted and stamped his foot. With a cheeky glance at Susan, he turned back and flicked the brush at Douglas.
Susan gasped. Douglas sat there looking surprised. His face and beard were spattered with scarlet paint.
‘Jack!’ Susan yelped. ‘You mustn’t flick paint. Say you’re sorry to Douglas, please.’
Jack hung his head. ‘Sorry, Douglas,’ he muttered.
Douglas, still decorated with random red spots, grinned. ‘It really doesn’t matter,’ he said to Susan. ‘I’m often covered in paint and your dustsheets have protected everything that matters. We’re all in old clothes, aren’t we?’
‘True.’ Susan glanced down at the jeans she was wearing. They were almost worn through at the knees. Her T-shirt was also ancient. ‘Well then, in that case …’ She reached out for one of Douglas’s paintbrushes that was propped on the top of a jar of white paint. A huge grin spread across her face as she carefully took aim and flicked the brush at Douglas. ‘Red and White,’ she said. ‘Now you’re going to have to support Man U.’
Douglas opened his eyes wide in mock outrage. ‘Right!’ he said. He bared his teeth and growled, then dipped his brush in the light blue paint that he had been using to paint the sky.
A few moments later, the room was filled with flying paint. Susan was laughing so hard, she could barely breathe. Douglas looked crazier than ever, spattered with every colour of paint under the rainbow. Jack had watched for a second, his eyes wide with shock at the way his mum was acting, and then he had joined in, flicking paint at both Susan and Douglas with glee.
‘Look at me, Mummy!’ Susan was almost too distracted to look, but at the last minute, her eyes swivelled to Jack. He stood poised with a whole tin of paint. In another second, he would launch it at Douglas.
‘Stop, Jack!’ she yelled as she rushed towards him, but Douglas was quicker. He reached out and grabbed the pot.
Jack looked surprised, then he crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip.
‘Sorry, Jack.’ Douglas put the paint out of arm’s reach, then knelt down in front of Jack, whose face was still mutinous. ‘We’ve had a lot of fun,’ he said, placing a hand gently on Jack’s shoulder, ‘but if you throw the whole pot, it’ll make so much mess it’ll soak through the sheets and spoil the carpet. Do you understand?’ He smiled at Jack, making it clear he wasn’t angry.
Jack’s face slowly cleared. He looked at Douglas and nodded.
‘Shake?’ Douglas held out his enormous, paint-stained hand. Jack reached out his own small one and they shook. ‘Now,’ said Douglas. ‘I think we need to help Mummy clean up, don’t you?’ He glanced up at the walls. Susan looked too. The mural they had painted was fine, but one of the cream-painted walls was spotted with flecks of colour. Douglas looked at Susan, his face rueful. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
Susan laughed. ‘I don’t know what you’re sorry for,’ she said. ‘It was me that started it.’
Douglas smiled, his eyebrows lifting. ‘That’s true,’ he admitted, ‘but I’ll help you paint again. It was at least partly my fault.’
Jack was looking up at the spattered wall with something approaching awe. ‘I like it,’ he said. ‘Can’t it stay?’
Douglas grinned at Susan. ‘Maybe we should listen to Jack,’ he said. ‘It is a bit like modern art.’
That enormous smile. It was irresistible. Susan laughed. ‘It does look a bit Jackson Pollock,’ she said, making a square with her fingers and thumbs and peering though it to inspect the dotty wall from different angles.
‘More a Banksy by the time I’m done,’ Douglas replied. He dipped the paintbrush into one of the pots and a moment later, several of the dots had been joined together to make a cow.
Susan wondered whether Jack would protest. A cow didn’t really fit with their woodland theme, but Jack was wide-eyed, seemingly as awestruck as Susan when Douglas painted anything.
‘Is it one of the cows you and Mummy rounded up?’ Jack asked. ‘Mummy told Mandy you looked great on a horse,’ he added in a matter-of-fact tone. Susan could feel a tide of pink rushing across her face. I’m going to have to be more careful about him listening to my phone calls!
‘Did she now?’ Douglas raised his eyebrows. Susan could see the effort it was taking him to keep a straight face. ‘I must go riding more often in that case. Thank you, Jack.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Jack said. Susan could feel a giggle rising. She put a hand to her mouth and pressed her lips together and wanted to laugh all the more. There was a definite taste of paint. Douglas was even more covered. Maybe he would have to don the ridiculous Christmas pyjamas again, unless he wanted to drive home with paint all over him.
Douglas held up a finger and put his head to one side as if trying to hear. ‘I think there’s a phone ringing,’ he said.
Susan listened. Sure enough it was her mobile. She grabbed a towel, wiped her hands, then followed the sound through to her bedroom. The phone lay on the bedside table.
‘Michael’. The name flashed on the screen and she stopped. For a mome
nt, she wondered if she should ignore it. Hadn’t she decided he should never see Jack again? But she had stormed out of his house in anger. She hadn’t told him her decision. He needed to know. She pressed the button to answer the call.
‘Susan, I hope you got home safely after you dashed out the other day.’
Though his tone was arrogant, Susan’s reply came almost automatically. ‘We did,’ she said. Her mind worked furiously as soon as she’d answered. He was blaming her for dashing out, not himself for putting her in an impossible position.
‘Well, I hope next time we meet, you’ll be a little more rational,’ he said. His voice was sardonic. Susan felt about six inches tall. Why did he do this to her?
‘I’m not sure I want you to see him again,’ she said. Even as she said it, she couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I want to see my son.’ The voice on the other end of the line was unequivocal. ‘I’ll come Saturday afternoon.’
‘He’s at a birthday party,’ she said. She spoke without thinking, then kicked herself. She had to take a firmer approach. It didn’t matter whether Jack was in or out. She didn’t want Michael coming round any time. ‘And even if he wasn’t,’ she said, ‘it’s not going to work. What happened the other day upset Jack.’
‘You’re not being fair. It’s important—’ Michael began, but a loud shriek from Jack’s bedroom sent Susan scurrying onto the landing.
She had thought from the scream that Jack had hurt himself, but when she arrived, he was grinning and standing on a chair on one leg. ‘Look at me, Douglas,’ he yelled at the top of his voice.
Susan was about to go in and intervene, when Douglas lifted him down. ‘Be careful, Jack,’ he said.
Michael had stopped halfway through his sentence. There was silence for a moment, then a single word. ‘Douglas?’ There was outrage in his voice. ‘You told me you wouldn’t be seeing him again. Not only are you bringing strange men into the house, but you lied to me. How dare you?’