Mating the Llama

by Oliver, Marina

  'I didn't understand all you and Graham Porter were talking about. What's this fibre micron count?'

  'It's a measurement of thickness. If it's under twenty-eight microns it's classified as alpaca, but the finer fibres can be twenty or less. That's one of the qualities I was looking for in a stud llama. It's very fine, one micron is a thousandth of a millimetre. It's hollow, which is why it's so wonderfully soft and warm, for knitwear and fabrics. And the coat is so thick the animals are protected from cold and rain.'

  'So they are sheared like sheep to get the fibre? Does it have to be done every year? From what I saw of Rosa her coat is long.'

  'It is best to do it every other year with llamas, but it can be left and it simply stops growing. They really are very easy animals to keep. I must get some more so that Rosa has company, but I wanted to see how she fared before investing too much.'

  This was fascinating, and Lucy looked forward to going back to the farm the following day. While she'd been terrified on her first encounter with Rosa she felt she could now get close enough to lead her round if necessary, and she began to have an urge to sink her hands in that wonderful thick soft coat.

  'Do you show llamas?' she asked suddenly. She'd had a vision of her giving Rosa a shampoo and blow dry.

  'It's becoming more popular. There are classes at several big shows. It's one of the things I want to do soon.'

  They'd finished eating, both of them resolutely looking away from the dessert trolley.

  'Let's have coffee on the terrace,' Doc said, and they went through the french windows to where several small tables were scattered on a large terrace.

  It was a beautiful romantic night, still not fully dark, but there were some stars already twinkling in the sky. Despite the lovely, peaceful scene, her mood suddenly fell. He had clearly stayed here before. He knew his way round too well. Had he and Alice stayed here? She'd managed to push thoughts of her to the back of her mind during dinner, she'd found it so interesting talking about the llamas.

  She swallowed her coffee hurriedly, then stood up. 'Please excuse me. I'm tired. What time will you start in the morning?'

  *

  Chapter 8

  Lucy talked sternly to herself for several hours before she finally fell into an uneasy doze. If Doc and Alice were about to get engaged, good luck to them. She was a lovely girl, Lucy couldn't hate her. But she did feel jealous.

  She tried to analyse her emotions. Doc was amazingly attractive, easy to get on with, but so were lots of other men, and she didn't fall for them. Had she fallen for Doc? Yes, was the answer. Where did Edward fit into this? She'd been going out with him for some time, She'd been contemplating a closer relationship, when he showed signs of wanting one, but she hadn't tried to force the pace. She knew now she hadn't loved him. He had been a sop to her vanity, after years of being treated like an unwelcome disease by Karl, and the others who wanted her only because of her connection with a pop star.

  But to Doc she was just a new neighbour, a woman his sister seemed to like, someone who could be useful when he needed help. He'd had a life long before she came to live in the village, and he must have had plenty of women lusting after him.

  Then, against all common sense, she began to dream what could happen if Doc made a move. She'd welcome him, invite him into her room, let him kiss her. They'd discard their clothes, slowly and sensuously, not in an impatient rush. They'd help one another to undress, taking their time, savouring the anticipation of the pleasures to come. They'd cling together, naked, warm, tingling flesh, and eventually fall together onto the bed. He'd stroke her, kiss her all over, and she'd return the caresses. And then – she came to her senses. She was alone in the big bed, letting her imagination get out of hand. She knew she'd blush when she saw Doc the following morning, and she wondered whether it would be sensible to claim a violent headache that kept her in bed all day.

  At last she fell asleep, to be woken two minutes later by her alarm clock. She staggered towards the shower, and felt marginally better. She really did have a headache, but common sense had returned. It would be cowardly to avoid Doc. He was paying for this, and so far she'd done nothing except stand guard over Rosa's horsebox for half an hour. They'd have to meet as neighbours when they got home, She'd have to meet Alice, and if they did marry, she'd have to accept it. Besides, she wanted to see more of the llamas, and find out how Rosa was behaving.

  She staggered down to the dining room where a lavish buffet was laid out. She rarely bothered to cook breakfast, and the bacon, sausages, eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, black pudding, fried potatoes, potato cakes, fried bread and so on looked tempting. It seemed a pity to forego them, but her stomach wasn't in the mood. Toast and marmalade, and lots of strong black coffee, would be more sensible.

  Doc wasn't there, but he came in a few minutes later, piled his plate with everything Lucy had rejected, and came to sit opposite her.

  'Is that all you want?'

  'It's all I can manage,' she said. 'I ate too much yesterday.'

  'City girl. You wouldn't make a farmer's wife.'

  Would Alice? She couldn't imagine her tucking in to huge cholesterol-laden breakfasts.

  'What's the programme for today?'

  'To the farm, oversee Rosa and the stud animal being put into the same paddock, then keep a discreet eye on them. We have to know if he's served her.'

  She nodded, and nibbled at the toast while Doc ate his way through his own food. She was deep in thought when one of the waiters, a Polish student, they'd learned last night, appeared at her elbow asking if he could serve her more coffee.

  For a moment her mind went blank, then she blushed. She could feel the heat rising from below the demure neckline of her shirt, up her neck, and onto her face. What was it with the English language that so many words had alternative meanings! She'd been imagining Rosa and her prospective mate getting it together, wondering about the logistics, and it was difficult to divert her attention onto coffee.

  'Coffee? Oh, yes please,' she managed. 'Sorry, I was miles away.'

  She couldn't explain. It was too embarrassing. She gulped the coffee, choked on some crumbs of toast, and went even redder as Doc thumped her on her back.

  'OK now? Right, we'd better go soon. Ten minutes enough for you?'

  *

  Rosa looked happy enough in her paddock. Graham Porter came out of the house as they drove up, and shook hands.

  'Good, you're here early. Come with me to fetch the happy chappie.'

  Rosa was a beautiful pale fawn colour, and Graham led them to a paddock where he put a halter on another fawn llama. 'They should breed true,' he said as he led the male out through the gate. 'Both his parents were that colour, and you tell me Rosa's were. Well, here we are,' he added, opening the gate into Rosa's small paddock. 'In you go, laddie, do your stuff.'

  He took off the halter and closed the gate. The three of them leant on the fence and watched. Rosa had looked up when the gate was opened, and after a few moments when she appeared to be considering her new companion, she began to move towards him. He turned his back, bent his head, and began to graze.

  Rosa walked right up to him and nudged him, but his only reaction was to move away a few paces.

  Lucy stole a glance at Doc. He was struggling not to laugh.

  'He'll get interested soon,' Graham said.

  'Has he – well, done this before?' Doc asked. 'You said he was very young, just over three years old.'

  'Quite old enough to breed. We need to give them time.'

  'Is this his first time?' Doc persisted.

  'Well, yes, actually it is. But it's natural, instinctive. He'll work out what to do, you'll see.'

  'Perhaps they don't like an audience,' Lucy offered, and just at that moment Rosa turned away, wandered to the far side of the paddock, and lay down.

  'Let's move further away,' Graham suggested, and they went to sit on a bench where they could see but were far enough away not to disturb the llamas.

&nb
sp; 'Does he – well, need to be shown the technique?' Doc asked. 'Has he seen other stud animals perform?

  Graham took this seriously, and Lucy managed not to laugh out loud. 'He can see the others, and surely he has the right urges. But we have to be patient. Some of the females prefer to be mounted while sitting down, others when standing. Perhaps Rosa is trying to encourage him.'

  To Lucy it looked as though Rosa had completely lost interest. Like her for Edward.

  They sat there for another hour, but nothing more happened. Graham, very apologetic, said that occasionally llamas took some sort of dislike to one another and would not mate, but he was sure it would be all right in time. He called to a lad who had appeared from the barn, and asked him to take over the watch while they went indoors for some coffee. Doc drove off to walk the collies in woodland a mile or so away, saying they needed the exercise, and he would use the time for more training. Then they had a break for lunch. Watching llamas who were not interested in sex made Lucy think about it even more. Another break for tea. Finally Graham said they'd better give up for the day, and try again tomorrow. He led the reluctant stud back into his own paddock, and came back to consult with Doc.

  'You particularly wanted Cappuccino, didn't you?' he asked rather wistfully. 'I have others as good.'

  Doc nodded. 'I've done a lot of research, and he's the best fit for Rosa.'

  Except he doesn't fit, Lucy thought, and had to struggle hard not to burst into giggles.

  'Well, let's try again tomorrow, and think again if it doesn't work. See you at the same time?'

  They spent three more days at that farm, with the same result each time. If her feelings towards Doc had been different, Lucy would have enjoyed the time spent with him. In the evenings they went to different restaurants, and these would have been romantic evenings for two had it not been for her constant thoughts of Doc and Alice together. They'd drive back to the hotel in the romantic moonlight, sometimes stopping to lean over a small bridge crossing a small river, sometimes taking a brief walk along a river bank.

  Doc would take her arm, but his touch, though it sent desire coursing through her veins, was impersonal. Neither of them mentioned Alice again, and as far as Lucy knew she didn't phone.

  Finally Doc gave up, saying he'd think about trying again in a few weeks.

  'When Cappuccino's been shown what's wanted of him,' he told Graham, who was mortified by the behaviour of his stud, and making endless excuses and promises that it would all be better next time.

  They went to load Rosa into the horsebox and take her home. She had a most superior expression on her face as though she knew Doc had been defeated. There were no hampers from Mrs Thomas this time, but Doc parked by a large supermarket, handed Lucy some cash, and told her to go and buy whatever she could find that they could eat on the way.

  *

  Doc dropped her outside her cottage. 'Thank you for coming,' he said.

  'I don't think I was a great deal of use.'

  'There wasn't much to do, true, but Rosa can't be left alone. She had to have someone with her.'

  And anyone would have done, Lucy completed the thought.

  'Thanks, anyway. I know a lot more about llamas now.'

  'I enjoyed your company, Lucy.' He nodded, and drove off up the lane. As she stood watching him, her case at her feet, Kate burst out of Jeff Bryant's driveway.

  'Lucy, where have you been? No one had the slightest idea where you'd vanished to. Your van was here. We broke in to make sure you weren't lying with a broken leg or worse. Why you can't keep your mobile charged like everyone else I don't know! You're hopeless!'

  'Kate, calm down!'

  'Calm down! You ask me to calm down when you just waltz off into the blue yonder and don't let anyone know where you are. How irresponsible is that?'

  Lucy tried to keep her temper. 'Did you ask Mrs Thomas at the farm?'

  'I rang Flick, but they said she was away. Who's Mrs Thomas?'

  'Doc's housekeeper.'

  'Why should she know? Oh!' Kate's anger, born of fear, abruptly left her. 'You've been away for a dirty weekend with Doc! Is that it?'

  'It was meant to be a dirty weekend with Rosa, but the other llama wouldn't play. I went to help.'

  Kate looked at her in astonishment, and then began to howl with laughter. 'You! Helping with a llama! Why, you won't even go into a field with cows in it.'

  'Those were bullocks,' Lucy said, knowing what she was referring to, one of their last walks together last summer before she went back to college. It had been just a few weeks since Karl had died, and she was still feeling fragile. She hadn't thought she could outdistance those lively young brutes, if she needed to.

  By now Jeff had come out of his cottage and was standing beside Kate.

  'We didn't do any damage, Lucy. Well, that's to say I've repaired it. I was able to break a small window in the kitchen and lean in to open it. I replaced the glass. But you need extra locks on those windows, it's too easy to get in.'

  'But then you and Kate wouldn't be able to break in either.'

  'I found the spare key, in the kitchen drawer, so I was able to stay there. But I've been so worried.'

  Lucy picked up her case and turned towards the cottage. 'I want a cup of tea. Jeff, come and have one with us. Is there any milk?' she asked Kate.

  'Sure. I found the keys of the van and went shopping. I stocked the freezer. You didn't seem to have done that since you moved in.'

  They went inside, and Lucy took her case upstairs, wondering mildly at the pristine appearance of the cottage. Kate had clearly been occupying her time profitably. If she couldn't find anything, and the freezer was stocked with pizzas, she would just have to keep quiet.

  Back in the kitchen Kate had made a pot of tea and laid out chocolate digestives on a plate Lucy had never seen before. Kate saw her looking at it.

  'Some of my stuff from college. I got a mate to drive me here, and bring all my stuff. I had a job to fit it in. Now, tell all. What have you been up to?'

  She told them, and by the time they had laughed at poor Rosa's disappointment, Kate had calmed down and after Jeff left was able to tell Lucy about her plans. She wanted to buy a car at once, as she'd need it when she started her job the following month, and Lucy promised to take her to Oxford the next day to explore the second hand car dealers there. Their parents, when they had sold up to emigrate to Australia, had given both of them some money, and Kate had saved hers for the car.

  'Oh, and by the way, a Mrs Rogers called, and said you'd offered to help the WI at the fête. She asked if you could make a few cakes for the refreshments. You can claim the cost of the ingredients, she said, but I gathered you would be considered stingy if you did. The fête's next Saturday. I've offered to help on the cake stall, selling them.'

  'I hope you can cook them by then too! I'm not going to be able to learn to make cakes in less than a week!'

  *

  After an exhausting day Kate chose her car, and Lucy bought some recipe books. She was horrified, all the cakes seemed so complicated. Kate, however, seemed to think that if you only followed the instructions to the letter they would all turn out like the illustrations in the books.

  'Let's go and have a coffee, make a list of what we need, and go shopping,' she suggested, and since she seemed to be taking over the job Lucy was happy to agree.

  She'd acquired a box full of old baking tins from her mother when they moved, but hadn't a clue what was in it, or whether they were still usable, so they made a list of those too. Fortunately it was a superstore, they had a household goods department as well as food, and they were able to fill up the trolley with all sorts of odd-shaped tins. She'd have to extend the cottage to accommodate them all. She refused to look at the credit card slip after she'd paid. It was becoming expensive living in a village.

  They were loading up the van when Alice stopped beside them.

  'Lucy! I thought it was you. Did you have a good time with Doc? He's told me all abou
t it. I had to laugh. Flick's coming back today, did you know? I'm meeting her at the station, since Doc's busy. Her father's much better. Thought I'd do some shopping while I had the chance.'

  'How is your aunt?' Lucy asked. 'This is my sister, Kate. Kate, Alice Delaney. Miss Brown, who was knocked down, is her aunt.'

  'Oh, she's her old self again, but she does want you to call and see her. Can I tell her you'll pop in tomorrow afternoon?'

  She had to do it some time, and she was anxious to see that the old woman, battleaxe though she might be, was recovered.

  'Phew,' Kate said thoughtfully as they drove out of the car park. 'She wasn't at that party at the Manor. Isn't she persona grata?'

  'I've no idea. Perhaps she was away that weekend.'

  'I bet she has all the men in Shorter's Green panting after her. She is so pretty! She hasn't won Miss World, by any chance?'

  'She's nice, too,' Lucy said gloomily. 'Oh, well, I'd better get it over with. While I'm visiting Miss Brown, you can be planning cake-making sessions.'

  She set off early the next afternoon. Miss Brown lived in a small terraced house near the church, and was sitting in the square bay window watching for Lucy. At least that's what she assumed, for Miss Brown waved as soon as she saw her and disappeared. Seconds later the front door opened and she gestured, rather regally, for Lucy to come in.

  'Mrs Latimer, how good of you to call. I have so wanted to thank you for what you did when I had that unfortunate accident. I have tea waiting, it just needs the kettle to boil. Please go in the parlour and sit down while I see to it.'

  Lucy sighed. She'd hoped to avoid tea by coming early, but it was not to be. A small round table was set with a lacy tablecloth that must be the very devil to wash and iron. An ornate silver sugar bowl and cream jug sat in the centre, surrounded by plates of tiny little sandwiches, scones and cakes which were clearly home-made. There was a bowl of strawberry jam – no jars for Miss Brown – and another of thick whipped cream.

  The kettle must have been simmering, for within a minute Miss Brown returned carrying a large silver teapot and a rather pedestrian blue and white jug of hot water. Straining it carefully she poured tea into cups so fragile Lucy was scared to pick hers up,. Tea leaves, she noticed, not tea bags. But when she did venture to raise the cup to her lips, it tasted good. Perhaps she should try it.