Mating the Llama

by Oliver, Marina

  It was a glorious day so she walked up to the farm. She found Doc and Flick in one of the smaller paddocks, which was normally empty. Rosa was tethered to a post and not looking too happy about it. Whenever Doc tried to grab a handful of fibre and cut it off she retreated sideways, and was by now firmly pressed against the fence, looking down her nose as if to sneer at his failure.

  Flick was reading some papers.

  'Hi, Lucy. Come and join the fun. Cas, it says on this website that if you lean over their backs and cut the far side they won't mind,' she said.

  'Her far side is pressed too hard against the fence for me to get my hands there, let alone shears,' Doc said, sounding annoyed.

  'I'll come and push her back towards you. Lucy, read this printout and see if there's anything more we could be doing.'

  'Apart from calling in a professional,' Doc muttered.

  'I bet dear Daisy would be able to do it,' Flick said as she passed Lucy the sheaf of papers, but not loudly enough for Doc to hear.

  By distracting Rosa with carrot tops Flick was able to push past her head, and shove her out from hugging the fence. Doc grabbed a hank of fibre and started cutting, handing the cut hanks to Lucy as he did so. There was a large wicker basket waiting for them, and she was surprised how quickly this began to fill. Certainly this method seemed to work, and he had chopped off a considerable area from Rosa's left side in a comparatively short time.

  'That is going to do for today,' he said with a sigh as he stepped back. Then he began to laugh. 'I hope I can do the other side tomorrow, she looks decidedly lopsided.'

  She did. He'd only taken the fibre from her middle, leaving great swathes of it round her legs.

  'She looks like a poodle from this side,' Flick said, doubled up with laughter.

  'This website says they don't like their legs being touched.'

  'She needn't worry, I have no intention of touching them, not with shears, anyway. She'll have to be groomed, but she's going to this show looking like an odd-shaped poodle. Let's go in and have a drink. I think we deserve one.'

  Daisy was in the kitchen, doing something esoteric to a leg of lamb. She heard Doc, right behind her, suppress a groan, but she was more interested in the rather hard look Daisy gave her, before her gaze switched to Doc, and she smiled.

  'Would you like some coffee?' she asked. Her voice was what Lucy decided was usually described as dulcet.

  'No thanks. We'll be in the office, and I have several calls to make, so I don't want to be disturbed,' Doc said.

  He took a bottle of white wine from the fridge, and Flick picked up three glasses. It was Lucy's impression she waved them towards Daisy, a hint that she was not invited to join them. At any rate, Daisy frowned and began chopping herbs with more force than necessary.

  Inside the study Doc concentrated on opening the wine while Flick flung herself into one of the old leather armchairs and indicated to Lucy to take the other.

  'I can't wait for darling Tommy to be better and come back,' Flick said, heaving a deep sigh. 'The house doesn't feel like home any more, it's so well organised.'

  'And if I'm forced to eat any more of Daisy's healthy, tarted-up meals, I swear I'll explode! Do you know she's insisting on having organic wine now?'

  He looked at the bottle before filling the glasses.

  'At least this one is good old Italian Orvieto.'

  He handed Lucy a brimming glass, then one to Flick, and sat in the revolving desk chair behind a desk piled high with books and papers.

  'Cheers! Well, Lucy, you'll come with us to the show to help, I hope?'

  'I really don't think I can,' she said, and explained she had to be there for Mum when her friend died.

  They understood, though she thought Doc looked especially disappointed. Had he been planning to pick up from where they'd been interrupted by the hotel fire? She really hoped so.

  'Shall we ask the competent Daisy to come instead?' Flick asked, tongue in cheek.

  'If you do you can go on your own and show Rosa yourself.'

  'I bet she'd be able to shear Rosa,' Flick said, and Doc threw a rolled up ball of paper at her.

  Lucy wondered whether they would ever consider asking Alice, but after Edward's display of possessiveness the previous evening she thought, and hoped, her relationship with Doc was over.

  Reluctantly she said she had to go back home. Doc came with her into the yard, saying he'd better let the dogs out, they'd been shut in one of the stables while he was dealing with Rosa.

  'A shame about the show,' he said quietly, dropping a kiss on her cheek. 'But when your parents have gone, will you come away with me for a few days? Somehow, we never seem to have time to get to know one another properly.'

  *

  Margaret lapsed into a coma on Thursday, and died on Friday. Mum was devastated.

  'Her son was with her,' she told Lucy when they got back from Oxford. 'I hope, when it's my turn, you and Kate will be with me.'

  'It'll be a long time yet,' she tried to tell her. 'I suppose the funeral will be next week, sometime.'

  'I suppose so. David, her son, is going to phone us.'

  'What will you do then?' she asked.

  She didn't want to hurry them away, but selfishly she thought that if they'd gone by next weekend she'd be able to go to the show, and whatever else, after all. Then she felt guilty. It seemed as though she had wished for Margaret to die, and her parents to leave, just so that she could shag Doc. How despicable was that?

  'I thought, while we're here, we might visit Scotland, spend a few weeks touring,' Dad said. 'We never went, when we had all the time in the world to go.'

  'I couldn't enjoy it,' Mum protested.

  'You feel like that now, but it would do you good, take your mind off Margaret.'

  'We'll see. What about the business?'

  'It can do without us for a bit longer. With all these Internet cafés I can keep in touch, and I trust the others to cope if there are problems.'

  Kate was home that evening, thoroughly pleased with her course and gloating that she had done well in the various tests.

  'Accountancy is not bad,' she said while they were eating dinner, spaghetti bolognaise, one of the few dishes Lucy could cook without it going horribly wrong.

  'What about your painting?' Dad asked. 'You were always so eager to do that.'

  'Well, I still can,' Kate said, but as far as Lucy knew she hadn't even picked up her sketch book since she left college. 'Actually, I'm going to ask Doc if I can paint some of his llamas. I'm sure he'd commission a portrait of Rosa.'

  'You can't charge him!' Lucy was horrified. 'He's a friend, a neighbour.'

  'Why not? When you cut friends' hair you charge them.'

  'That's different, it's my living.'

  'And painting will have to be mine if I flunk the accountancy.'

  'You wouldn't want to paint Rosa at the moment,' Lucy said. 'She's lopsided, half sheared. Doc was going to finish her off but he's been too busy.'

  Soon afterwards they all went to bed, and as they undressed Lucy was able to ask Kate if she had found a rich bachelor amongst the lecturers.

  'No, they were all married, curse them. But what about your love life? Has Edward been in touch?'

  She told her about the drinks party.

  'I don't think his infatuation with Alice is just consolation. After all, when he came to the party he was expecting to be with me.'

  'And Doc? Are you flavour of the month there, or can I try my luck? After all, a rich man on the doorstep may be better than an accountant who hasn't appeared yet.'

  'Doc didn't seem too worried about Alice and Edward. In fact, I'm planning to go to the show with him after all, if Mum and Dad are in Scotland. He's, well, becoming attentive.'

  Kate demanded more information, and Lucy told her about the kiss when Daisy had interrupted them. Kate giggled.

  'Serve her right for sneaking around where she isn't wanted. How is Daisy?'

  'Getting on ev
eryone's nerves by being too perfect. She has been giving me some nasty looks ever since, so I think Flick was right, she is after a rich husband.'

  Kate sighed. 'So she's doing no better than I am. You seem to have snaffled Doc from under her nose.'

  'That is by no means certain. It may be just a fling to him. As for you, give it time, Kate. You haven't met many rich accountants yet.'

  'There's always Justin, but somehow, though I like him, he's not romantic.'

  He wasn't, but being a romantic hero wasn't necessarily the best qualification for being a good husband.

  'Lucy, I really meant it when I suggested painting Rosa. Will you ask Doc?'

  'Go and look at her tomorrow, and you ask him. When you see her you may change your mind.'

  *

  Margaret's funeral was arranged for the following Thursday, and both Kate and Lucy went with Mum and Dad, though they came home and left them to go on to her house with her family afterwards.

  Amazingly, Miss Brown, who met them at church the previous Sunday, came and spent time with Mum early in the week. They got on well, and Lucy began to appreciate her real goodness, as well as be irritated with her interference. Apart from anything else it relieved the girls of being consoling all the time, and gave Dad a break.

  He was able to spend a day in Oxford, while Mum went to Miss Brown's house for the day, buying maps and books about Scotland, with hotel and B&B directories. Despite Mum's reluctance, he persuaded her to pack and on Friday they set off northwards. Lucy moved thankfully back into her own bed.

  Rosa was finally clipped and combed, ready for the show, and on Saturday Kate went to the farm equipped with her sketch book. Lucy had clients, so didn't see her efforts until after supper.

  Kate has a talent for caricature, and she had filled her book with drawings of the llamas, some with ridiculous comments coming out of their mouths in speech bubbles. In amongst them were drawings of Doc. One had him looking like a medieval knight in full armour about to mount an armour-clad Rosa. In another he was trying to tear a Cupid's dart from his chest while being pursued by Daisy wielding a carving knife. Flick was there, Boadicea in her chariot, being towed by two alpacas. And a tiny figure she assumed was meant to be her hung out of a window high up in a tower, straining her arms towards the knight below galloping towards her.

  'Have you shown these to Doc?'

  'Yes, and he wants me to do a larger one of the tower. And I can do a painting of Rosa from these drawings.'

  Lucy had had to cancel a few appointments because of the funeral, so she was busy as she spent the next couple of days catching up, and didn't see Flick or Doc.

  On Wednesday evening Kate took what she'd done, mainly tidied sketches, up to the farm. She came home delighted with her reception, and said Doc insisted on paying her.

  'He said he'll call for you about ten tomorrow,' she told Lucy.

  'Then I'd better pack.'

  'Put your glamorous nightie in, and that new underwear, not your old stuff.'

  She hadn't had time to do much shopping, but she had found time to slip into Annabelle's and buy a few things. Luckily she had some designer jeans that fitted her perfectly, so instead of her old, shabby and baggy ones, she would be able to look smart at the show. She threw caution and her bank balance to the winds and bought two dresses that would do for smart daytime occasions and less formal dining. She had the red trouser suit and the long blue skirt, so she added a couple of tops.

  When she laid all these out on her bed, plus a few casual tee shirts and a couple of skirts, she knew they would not all go into her normal suitcase which was beside them. Kate, on her way to bed, poked her head into the room and laughed.

  'You can borrow mine,' she offered. 'It's expandable.'

  'I have to be prepared for anything,' Lucy excused herself. 'I don't know where we'll be staying, but Flick told me to bring some smart things, there would be a few parties.'

  She just managed to get everything in, and then she set the alarm for eight. She couldn't afford to be late.

  Sleep would not come. She relived every moment she had spent with Doc, especially the more intimate ones. Then she began to wonder how the next few days would go. Had he booked separate rooms, or did he expect to share? He would have known she was willing, but did he want to be so open in front of his sister? Might he expect her to share with Flick? That would be demoralising, especially if she had to sneak away to his room, and tell Flick why. Surely he would not do that! To either of them.

  It was nine o'clock when Kate hammered on her door and then burst into the bedroom.

  'Lucy, we both overslept. I'm off, I'll be late for work. Enjoy yourself, see you Sunday, if that's when the show finishes.'

  By the time she'd showered, dressed, and shoved the last few things into the suitcase, she barely had time for coffee and a slice of toast. She was just finishing when Doc drew up outside and tooted his horn.

  Kate wouldn't mind washing up, she decided as she grabbed her suitcase, locked the door, and went to climb into the Range Rover. This time it was towing a larger horsebox, and Flick was sitting beside Doc. There were no collies, so she had the back seat to herself, apart from a large hamper. She wondered what delicacies Daisy had prepared for them. It was only when they got to the hotel that she discovered her jeans, her new designer jeans, were covered in dog hairs, and of course she had forgotten to pack a clothes brush. Oh, well, perhaps the hotel might oblige.

  'Where are the dogs?' she asked. Surely Doc would not have left them in Daisy's charge.

  'Alice has them. She's taking a few days off,' Doc said.

  Alice? Her heart sank. Were they back together? Then she wondered whether Edward would be staying with Alice. She couldn't ask, so had to sit there in utter misery and wait to see what happened. The only shred of consolation was that he hadn't asked her to come too. But maybe, being a gentleman, he felt he couldn't as he'd asked her first.

  It wasn't far to the show ground, and Doc explained he had booked rooms in a large hotel nearby, but they'd be going to the ground first to leave the animals. They'd stop somewhere for the picnic lunch. The animals, he said, would be left in small paddocks or stables at the show ground, and there was tight security, since a few fanatics had threatened to disrupt proceedings.

  'For heaven's sake, why?' she asked.

  'It's an agricultural show, mainly, and there's a rather diverse group of crazy protesters that have somehow got together. There are some militant vegetarians who object to using animals as food, some who are protesting against the European Union, especially the agricultural policy, and a few rent-a-mob who have heard about the planned demos and want to create mayhem anyway.'

  'Don't forget the climate changers who claim cows create so much methane gas it's going to kill the world,' Flick put in.

  Lucy was horrified. 'Is it safe to leave the animals?'

  'Safer than having them in a horsebox outside the hotel,' Doc said. 'We'd have to mount a twenty-four hour watch there, which wouldn't do much for our beauty sleep.'

  There was, or did she imagine it, a rather pointed way he said that. She didn't know whether to be elated at the implied promise or worried about his new friendliness with Alice.

  They found a dedicated picnic halt with wooden tables and were able to park right next to one, so that they could keep watch on the horsebox. Daisy's offerings were solid and unadventurous. Lucy commented on this as she helped unpack packets of cheese and ham sandwiches, some even on white bread, and tiny pork pies and jam tarts that were still in the supermarket packaging.

  Flick giggled. 'Cas finally lost it and told her that if she didn't stop finicking about with good food she could leave. We wanted it plain and simple apart from special occasions. This is her response.'

  'Suits me,' she said, and tucked in.

  She began to think Daisy was no longer a threat, but she wasn't so sure about Alice, temporary guardian of Doc's precious dogs.

  *

  The show ground w
as bustling with exhibitors settling in their animals, people erecting stalls for selling all kinds of things, men putting up big marquees, others marking out and fencing various rings where the animals would be paraded.

  They were issued with security passes to the stable enclosures, after Doc had registered them and they had been closely inspected. How they could tell we were not demonstrators or protesters Lucy didn't ask. No one would be admitted to the section reserved for exhibitors without the passes, they were warned.

  There were several llamas already there, including Cappuccino, who was being given a good brush by Graham Porter. He nodded to them, was introduced to Flick, and when Rosa had been unloaded came over to inspect her.

  'No problems?' he asked.

  'She seems to be fine,' Doc told him. 'No ill effects from her escapade. Are the others OK?'

  'Fortunately, or those damned balloonists would be facing a huge bill for compensation. Well, good luck in your class. I'm hoping for great things from Cappuccino. He's taken to his role as father really well now.'

  Lucy giggled, recalling his initial reluctance.

  Graham frowned at her, and turned back to Doc.

  'I hear you have quite a herd now. Will you be bringing any of them down for Cappuccino next year?'

  'I'll have to see,' Doc replied, though he'd told Lucy he wasn't using Cappuccino again unless Rosa's cria turned out to be exceptional. 'Excuse us, we have to get to the hotel.'

  It was only about ten minutes away, a large, soulless block of glass and concrete. They'd left the horse box at the show ground, so made the journey swiftly. Doc had booked three rooms, next to each other at one end of a long corridor.

  'There's a pool and so on in the basement,' Doc said as they found the rooms. 'Fancy a swim?'

  'I didn't bring a swimsuit,' Lucy said, disappointed.

  'They have a shop. Go and buy one. Put it on the bill.'

  She couldn't possibly do that, when she saw the prices. She tried on some bikinis, and decided they showed too much stomach flab. As well as thigh flab and arm flab, but she couldn't cover those up. She could at least disguise her stomach. The one she finally chose was a dark blue, boned for bosom uplift – so the label told her – and reinforced across the stomach. It controlled that flab, and she was moderately pleased with it, despite the horrendous price tag.