Bugger – who the heck would be ringing the bell at this time of night?
It rang again.
I sat quietly, willing them to go away whilst shushing at Alfie, though he wasn’t making a sound.
He stared at me; his eyes widened and then he swiped at my finger, obviously thinking this was some sort of new game.
‘Ouch,’ I mouthed at him, feeling a short, sharp pain followed by a little trickle of blood running down my finger. That would teach me to shush the cat.
Startled by the loud knock that followed, I tensed up. Surely they have the wrong blooming door and will hopefully go away any moment now, I thought.
Knock, knock, KNOCK.
If nothing else, they were persistent.
‘Flipping heck, Alfie, all I wanted was a sit-down.’
He purred back at me like he understood my predicament whilst still watching my finger with a wicked glint in his eye.
I placed my book on the table and reluctantly forced my tired body up and out of the comfort of the settee.
Before I even had a chance to open the door, I heard a voice filter through.
‘Kitty, are you in there? Come on, open up, it’s only me.’
Recognising the cheerful tones of Jeannie’s voice, I flicked the latch and opened the door.
Holding up a thin white plastic carrier before my eyes on her arched finger, the smell of Chinese food wafted in my direction.
‘Ta-dah, thought you might be in need of a celebratory meal after today’s little escapade. I’ve heard all about your bidding war.’ She smiled, nudging me playfully.
Alfie appeared in the hallway and began to continually wind his way around my legs. I picked him up and held him close; he stretched his nose towards the white carrier bag and purred.
Giving me a quick hug, Jeannie tossed her hair over her shoulder and bounced straight past me in the direction of the living room.
‘Where are the plates? I’m famished. I’ve worked up a right appetite; been up to my eyes in it all day, mucking out.’
However shattered I was, it would seem my plans for an early night snuggled up in my PJs had been wiped out before my very eyes, but that Chinese did smell heavenly and I was in need of some sort of stodge to soak up the wine before I began to talk gibberish.
Placing the plates down on the table alongside the cutlery, I asked, ‘Wine? Would you like a glass?’
‘Yes, please!’
I poured Jeannie a large glass.
‘So,’ Jeannie wound the chicken chow mein around her fork, ‘a little bird tells me you had the market in uproar today.’
‘A little bird?’
‘Robin.’
‘Who’s Robin?’
‘Robin is my brother. Full of it today he was when he arrived home. I had a complete rundown of your impressive rescue of Bluebell Lodge’s birds.’ She was laughing. ‘It’s kept me amused for the last hour.’
I scrunched my face up. ‘I can’t believe those horrible men were going to cook up my chickens, the absolute cheek of them.’
Stabbing my fork into the chicken chow mein, I wavered and placed the fork back my plate, making the conscious decision to look into becoming a vegetarian.
Jeannie grinned at me. ‘Well done you is all I can say. I think it’s a marvellous idea, keeping all the old hens. It’s only been a short time, but I’ve found myself getting attached to my new feathered friends.’
‘Me too,’ I responded, looking down at the diced chicken on my plate and realising those feathered friends may once have been related to my feathered friends and enjoyed a life clucking around a quaint farmyard until their fate was decided by the highest bidder at a poultry market.
‘Are you eating that?’ Jeannie asked, giving me a sidelong glance.
‘I don’t believe I am; I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,’ I confirmed, guiltily remembering every chicken I had ever eaten in my lifetime.
Jeannie smiled. Picking up my plate, she scraped the contents of meat and noodles her own plate and began tucking in.
‘Waste not want not.’
‘How did Robin know who I was?’ I asked, intrigued.
‘Tom had mentioned to him that there was a new boss at the Lodge. Those pair have known each other since school, and then they met up at the market – that’s how I got the job. Tom mentioned he needed an assistant for the farm and Robin talked him into giving me a shot. I couldn’t believe my luck when I landed the job – with such a handsome boss too, what a bonus!’ She grinned.
She did like Tom after all; my mood suddenly slumped and now I certainly had no appetite left. What chance did I have if Jeannie was after him?
‘More wine?’ I offered, suddenly realising we’d drunk our way through one bottle already. ‘This is going down too well,’ I murmured, gulping mine down like it was water.
‘Go on then.’
Retrieving another bottle from the fridge, I poured another two very large glasses.
Jeannie took a sip, then continued. ‘Saving the chickens aside, you made quite the impression today. All he’s been talking about since he got back was the attractive new boss.’ She winked.
Wait a minute. I was busy trying to put two and two together. Did this mean that Tom found me attractive? Would it be too much to let out a huge whoop whoop and dance on the table? Yes it would. Keep your cool, Kitty.
Taking another sip from my glass, there was no denying the fact I was secretly chuffed to bits.
‘Well, I’m actually here to try bribing you with this
Chinese tonight, fingers crossed.’
Placing my wine glass down on the table, I looked at Jeannie.
‘Bribe me? With what? Go on, I’m intrigued.’
‘A double date,’ she gleefully responded.
‘Whaaaa?’
‘A double date.’
‘With Tom?’ My voice was now extending to an excited octave higher and sounded all weird and strangled.
‘Of course with Tom, who else?’
My mind was already wandering, flicking along the rail in my wardrobe, mentally trying to choose a desired outfit. Sod it, a new dress was called for – I would need to go shopping.
‘Yikes, I’m in! Jeannie, I’m going to need your help – a new dress is in order.’ I was grinning ecstatically.
‘Not a problem.’
‘So who’s the fourth person then?’
‘Has that wine gone straight to your head? That is four people, silly.’ Jeannie, who was also very tipsy by now, giggled.
‘I’ve only counted three,’ I responded in a very confused state.
‘You, me, Tom and Robin,’ Jeannie announced. ‘One, two, three, four,’ she said, counting on her fingers.
‘Very funny, you can’t date your brother, that is so wrong and I’m sure you’ll find it’s also against the law.’ I giggled.
‘I’m not dating Robin, you are!’
My smile suddenly plunged into despair and reality hit. She didn’t mean my date was with Tom, which could only mean one thing.
‘Then who are you dating?’
‘Er, Tom, who else?’
Complete silence.
Coming back down to earth instantly, I gave Jeannie a blank look; what the heck was she talking about?
‘Robin couldn’t take his eyes off you at the market and begged me to engineer a date! You’ll adore him; he’s got such a good sense of humour.’
My chest tightened. What a massive disaster.
‘Are you OK, Kitty, you’ve gone kind of white?’
I pretended to be distracted. ‘I feel a little faint, to be honest, must be the wine. I’ll open the window.’
Once the window was open I began to slowly tidy away the dirty plates while I digested this information. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Taking another huge gulp of wine, I pondered.
I started speaking slowly, trying to take in the proposal; my natural response was to refuse. I didn’t like the thought of seeing Jeannie draped all over Tom.
It felt horrible just thinking about it. I’d only known these people a few days, so why was I feeling so crushed? I’d never experienced feelings like this before, and so soon after meeting someone too.
Let’s face it, I barely knew Tom, but we seemed to click so well, and he was so easy to be around – not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. There I was admitting it to myself: I liked him, really liked him.
But, in reality why would he ever fall for me anyway? Jeannie was beautiful, stunning; five foot six, with a slim size-eight figure and clear skin to die for. And me, well, I think the words average and ordinary best described me. The only blind date I had ever been on hadn’t gone well; he was a trainspotter, and we’d been fixed up by one of my college friends. He liked standing around on station platforms scoring off train numbers in a pocket book. The only thing I fancied that day was a mint choc chip ice cream, but the ice-cream vendor was a no-show due to the excessive downpour of rain. A huge disappointment, just like the company. To say I hadn’t enjoyed the date was an understatement, and there was no way I was investing in an anorak; it wasn’t cool and it wasn’t hip.
I had only really ever been in one serious relationship, with my ex, Luke. I thought we would eventually marry and have the dream, which included a house and two children. However, things began to rapidly fall apart once I gave up my university place. We grew apart and within a term of him starting at university, the relationship had ended. There hadn’t been anyone else since Luke.
I settled back onto the seat in the kitchen and thought about explaining my predicament. This was my cue to come clean. Actually now was probably not the time to explain; Jeannie was very much a stranger too and me blurting out after two bottles of wine and a half-eaten chow mein that at my age I had only ever slept with one man seemed like too much too soon.
‘So what do you think? Is it a yes?’ urged Jeannie, waiting for an answer.
‘What’s Tom’s take on it all?’ I asked, my stomach churning, not really wanting to know the answer.
‘He’s definitely up for a night out, said he would look forward to it if you were game.’
My heart sank to a new depth; if he was willing to go on a double date and I wasn’t his date then I needed to face facts – we were never going to be more than friends.
Take a deep breath, Kitty.
What was I thinking anyway? I couldn’t date an employee; I was technically Tom’s boss – it could never work!
I stifled a yawn. ‘Time for bed for me, Jeannie. I was up early, and I mean early.’
‘Well, come on, I’m dying here, what’s your answer? Robin thinks you’re really attractive. I’m not leaving until I have an answer.’
I laughed but then suddenly realised she wasn’t kidding.
‘Come on – tell me for heaven’s sake!’
‘OK, it’s a night out. You can show me the nightlife around these parts.’
This was going to be torture.
‘Excellent.’ Jeannie clapped her hands in excitement.
There was nothing excellent about it; it was most definitely on a par with the trainspotting date. It was probably for the best that I didn’t mix business with pleasure; well that’s what people say, don’t they? So why wasn’t I convinced?
Chapter Eleven
At the ridiculous time of 4 a.m., I turned on the bedside lamp and propped myself up against my pillows. Reaching for my book, I began to read. Usually within no time, I would feel myself dropping off to sleep, but after five minutes I gave up. It was no use; I couldn’t concentrate on the words and my mind began to wander. I was wide awake. Thoughts of Tom filtered through my head. The double date was already playing on my mind. I kept trying to tell myself that he was going on a date with Jeannie and it wasn’t a big deal, but who was I trying to kid?
It was a very big deal.
What could I do about it anyway? Absolutely nothing, so why was I losing sleep over it? I never lost a wink of sleep over Clive Ramsbottom, the obsessed trainspotter.
I tried to read again and before I knew it, it was 6 a.m. I found myself dragging on my overalls and pushing my feet into my wellington boots. Wheeling the bike through the hallway, I’d decided I might as well be up at the Lodge. It was pointless hanging around here with nothing to do for another few hours and Alfie was still curled up fast asleep. Trying to block all romantic nonsense from invading my head, I cycled along the quiet street in the darkened morning sky.
The air was a little nippy so I pedalled faster, trying to keep warm. Arriving at the Lodge, the padlock was flung on the ground in its usual place, which could only mean one thing: Tom was up and already moseying about.
Riding past the cottage, I could see the outside light was shining up the yard and his boots were no longer sitting outside the front door. Hearing a distant shout of my name from the barn, I pretended I hadn’t heard him. I carried on until I got to the office, where I dropped off my bike. My stomach was twisting in knots; the feeling of gloom lay in the pit of my stomach. I just needed to forget about Tom and Jeannie and get on with my job.
‘Good morning, Kitty, I’ve been shouting you!’ Tom smiled excitedly when he reached me.
How could anyone be so smiley at such an early hour and how could anyone look that handsome?
‘What are you doing up at this time?’ he queried.
‘I couldn’t sleep, had a bit of a restless night.’
‘Ooo, excited for your date with Robin?’ He grinned warmly.
That was the last thing I needed to hear. There was nothing like rubbing my nose in it.
‘Ooo, excited for your date with Jeannie?’ I blurted out, mimicking him and then feeling totally shitty.
My lips started to quiver; damn, I was going to cry. Tom was silent and I risked a glance. He looked upset.
‘I’m feeling a little sad this morning, Kitty. I’ve been up since the crack of dawn scouring every barn, every hay bale, but I still can’t find her.’
‘Who?’
‘Dotty – she’s disappeared.’
‘Granny’s favourite chicken?’
‘Yes, she vanished yesterday from the yard and no one has seen hide nor feather of her. I’ll be deeply upset if the fox has got her.’
I nodded. ‘I’ll have a look about for her.’
I felt so despondent about the double-date situation that it was good to have a distraction, though I didn’t like the thought that Dotty was missing. I began to hurry over to the furthest barn in search of her.
‘Hang on. Before you go …’
My heart lifted. This was the second he would look deep into my eyes and tell me he’d made a mistake – he didn’t really want to wine and dine supermodel Jeannie but preferred average Kitty; it was me he wanted to whisk off on a date.
‘Yes?’
‘Can you feed the chickens in the bottom paddock? The food’s in the stable. Fill up all the red feeders then let the chickens out of the coop to roam around the field.’
My eyes were now blurred with the ambush of tears. Trying to ignore the queasy feeling in my stomach, I turned and walked away from Tom, up the yard. He still wanted to date supermodel Jeannie. Of course he did.
Trudging towards the field, I wiped the tears from my eyes. Kitty Lewis, you need to get a grip of yourself – whatever will be will be. Concentrate on your work and throw yourself into the business. Do not fling yourself at the first man you have a crush on. It didn’t matter how many times I gave myself a good talking to, I still felt devastated.
Arriving at the bottom paddock, there was a right old racket sounding out from every henhouse.
‘Bwok, bwok, bwok, bwok.’
Swiftly climbing over the rickety old fence, I moved towards the houses, panic beginning to take over. The chickens sounded like they were distressed.
Feeling flustered, I decided I would free the chickens first then locate the food from the stables, as per Tom’s instructions.
Wrapping my fingers around the chains, I pulled. The doors to the coops
were unleashed, flinging them wide open. Peering back at me were hundreds of alert orange eyes, sitting above light coloured beaks. Collectively those beaks looked lethal. All the hens were identical, each with a smooth rosy face, small red earlobes and an attractive mixture of browns and blacks with a beetle-green sheen to their feathers.
In a synchronised hop from their perches, the chickens were soon happily foraging around outside in the grass.
Mission chicken was so far successful.
Hurrying towards the stables, I found the huge sacks of chicken pellets leaning against the back wall. Inside each sack was a scoop. If I was going to wander back and forth with a small scoop it would take me forever to load up the trays with their food. Using my initiative, I hunted around the stable for a bucket. Finding one, I filled it to the brim with pellets and sauntered back out to the field.
Crouching down and squeezing myself between the slats of the wooden fence, I swung my bucket of feed and headed for the red feeding trays.
All of a sudden there was an eerie silence around me, not one bwok, not one cluck and not one cock-a-doodle-doo.
Swiftly swinging my head around to look, I saw thousands of chickens standing still, their beady orange eyes locked in my direction. An uneasy feeling swept through my entire body.
I took a step forward.
The chickens also shunted forward in my direction.
I took another step forward.
They copied.
I picked up my pace and then began to run like hell towards the feeders whilst glancing backwards over my shoulder.
In a Jurassic Park-style moment, a thought flashed through my mind: I was stranded on a tropical island in an isolated Central American location populated with cloned dinosaurs, or to be more precise, cloned chickens.
Willing my legs to move faster, the chickens were now thundering towards me with a certain type of determination.
My mouth opened and I let out a high-pitched scream that echoed all around the fields.
Suddenly I was in the middle of a chicken stampede. Hundreds of squawking chickens ran at me, their wings flapping and feathers flying. In a complete frenzy, they launched themselves in my direction with their eyes locked on the bucket of feed. Still screaming, I catapulted the bucket up into the air and my body hit the ground hard. Hundreds of chickens appeared to be scuttling all over me whilst they pecked at their food. Lying on the ground, I played dead. I didn’t dare move or make a sound in case they realised I was still there.
Kitty's Countryside Dream Page 6
