by G. R. Gemin
The man from Defra was wearing wellies and had a clipboard. He turned to Kate’s dad. “Are they yours?”
Mr Thomas nodded.
The nearest cow to the inspector was Donna. She seemed nervous, and I can’t blame her. “Looking after her, I am,” Morris said to the Defra man. “She’s fine.”
“I need to inspect this cow,” he said, but Morris stood in his way.
“Don’t take her off me,” he pleaded.
Gran called to him and Morris reluctantly shuffled aside. The Defra man checked the tag on the cow’s ear and ticked his clipboard.
“What have you been feeding her?” he asked Morris.
“Hay and grass. Took her here the other day to stretch her legs and have a feed.”
The Defra man touched Donna’s udders. She mooed. “Seems fine,” he said.
“That’s what I told you,” said Morris.
We watched in silence as the Defra man inspected the rest of the cows. The carers glared at him as he went from one to the next. Finally, he went up to Mr Thomas and had a word with him.
“Here we go,” said Gran. “The moment of truth.”
Mr Thomas went over to the policeman and was given the megaphone.
“These cows were taken from my farm without permission…” His voice echoed around the Common. “You all knew that when you took them in. The police say I could press charges…”
Murmurs came from the crowd.
“No harm seems to have come to them, but you took them, you can bring them back. So here’s the deal. If they’re all up at my farm by the end of today, I won’t take matters any further.”
He handed the megaphone back to the policeman. As he walked away, the crowd parted. The shrunken version of Kate was left standing by herself, and all you could hear were the cows pulling and chewing at the grass.
FORTY TWO
People spoke in whispers as I walked towards Kate. I didn’t know what she was going to say – maybe she’d be angry and blame me. She gazed around as if she was wondering why there were so many people on the Common.
“Sorry, Kate,” I said. “This was all my idea, and it was me who told the papers.”
“Was it?” she said sadly. “Glad it’s over and finished with, to be honest.”
“Did he mean it last night about the cows going to slaughter?” I asked her.
“I don’t know. He has to find a new buyer, or take them to market, and that means more time and money.”
Gran came over to us, with Mam, who had her arm around Darren. “I’m so sorry, Kate,” she said. “It just goes to show you can make bad decisions even at my time of life.”
“It’s OK, Lilly,” said Kate. “I started it all off.”
The cow-carers gathered around us. They were all so sad.
“C’mon,” said Gran. “No point delaying the inevitable. Enough damage has been done. Let’s get these cows back up Craig-y-Nos.”
“I don’t want to give her back,” Morris said as he stroked Donna.
“Nor do any of us,” said Gran. “We got carried away, taking those cows, but what we did was plain wrong and now we have to face the consequences. It was lovely having them all on the Common, and me giving out the cheese reminded me of the fetes we used to have here.” She turned to Kate. “You going to take them all up in one go?”
“No. Six at a time, like we took them down.”
“Take Jane up in the first lot, would you?” said Gran.
Jane looked up from her chewing as if she’d heard. Gran walked up to her. “I’ve got to say goodbye to you, Jane, my beauty. Thanks for your milk, and thanks for keeping me company too.”
Gran kissed her on the head. I had to hold my breath to stop myself bursting into tears.
“Stay with her, Lilly,” said Kate. “We’ll take her second time around. She was first down, let her be the last up.”
Gran smiled.
We herded six cows together, and then me, Kate and Darren started on our way. The people that had cared for the cows began to follow us.
Kate turned to them. “S’all right, we can manage.”
“We want to come, love,” said Maria Bracchi. “We’ve got nothing else to do.”
People watched us taking the six cows across the High Street and on towards Craig-y-Nos hill. It was sad, like a funeral procession. Cars stopped and waited for us to pass. As we got near to the motorway bridge Gran called on my mobile.
“What’s up, Gran?”
“It’s Donna – something’s wrong.”
“How d’you mean?”
“I don’t rightly know.”
I could hear Donna mooing in the background, but she didn’t usually make much noise. I passed the phone to Kate. She listened to Gran, then said, “OK. I’ll be there soon.” She turned to us. “I need to go back.”
“What about the cows?”
“Take them into the field by the bridge, for now. Darren, you know where.”
He nodded.
“I won’t be long,” said Kate. “Probably something and nothing.”
I went with her, but her usual slow, plodding walk soon turned into fast strides.
FORTY THREE
When Donna mooed it wasn’t the usual sort of moo, it was more like a groan.
They’d taken her back to Morris’s yard. Kate ran her hand over Donna’s belly and she walked all around her.
“What is it?” I asked.
“She’s too early, but I think she’s ready to calve.”
Gran brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, love.”
“But something’s not right.” For the first time I saw fear in Kate’s eyes. She looked at me and said, “I need my dad.”
When Kate phoned him her voice was small and she sounded scared. I thought Mr Thomas would refuse to come, but she hung up and said, “He’s on his way.”
It was getting dark, and news soon got around that Donna was going to calve. Morris had his kitchen lights on but it wasn’t enough, so people brought lamps and gathered in the yard. There was a warm glow of light, which reminded me of a picture of the Nativity I saw once.
Every time Donna let out a moo we all felt for her. It was awful, so Karuna played the flute to calm us. When we heard Mr Thomas’s truck coming down the alley the tension got worse. The car door slammed shut and the crowd parted to let Mr Thomas into the yard. He stood there for a moment, staring at us. Here we all were, standing around Donna, a cow we’d taken from him, who was now in trouble. She let out a groaning moo as if she was saying, “Get a move on!”
“Thank you for coming,” said Gran.
Mr Thomas looked over Donna. She mooed. “Easy, girl.” He went to the truck and came back with a long plastic thing. He handed it to Kate.
“Dad, I—”
“They’re your cows,” he said. “Get cleaned up and find out what’s wrong.” He turned to us. “We’ll need more straw.”
Some of the neighbours went off as soon as he said that. Mr Thomas went to his truck and returned with a can of something that he sprayed on Donna’s behind – disinfectant, Gran said it was. When Kate came out she was wearing the long plastic glove that went right up to her shoulder. She went to the back of Donna.
“Reach in as far as you can,” her dad said, “and tell me what you feel.”
Donna snorted as Kate slid her arm in. I breathed in sharply. After a few moments she said, “I can feel a foot.”
“Can you feel the calf’s head?”
“No.”
“OK, try and pull the foot round. Don’t worry about hurting her – it’ll only make it easier.”
I could see Kate grit her teeth as she pulled. Donna mooed.
“I’ve shifted it a bit.”
“Now try again to feel for the head, or the nose of the calf.”
Kate grunted as she reached in. “There’s something… Yeah, it’s the head.”
I was so tense. Mr Banerjee was praying. I glanced at Karuna, who smiled and made me feel everything would be OK
.
“Now you’ve got to try and bring the head round and reach the other leg.”
Kate pulled back a little and Donna cried out. Morris tried to soothe her.
“OK, the head’s facing forward.”
“Now go as far as you can,” said Mr Thomas. “Try and find the right shoulder. Then you can pull the leg round.”
Kate reached in and Donna mooed loudly.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Take over, Dad!”
“No. Try again.”
Kate winced as she stretched. Donna mooed and Gran moaned along with her. Mam put her arm round me and I held her hand.
Kate gasped. “Got the knee.”
“Good. Straighten it and pull her round.”
Kate clenched her jaw. Donna staggered, which made Kate slip.
“Easy, girl,” said Mr Thomas.
Now Kate was standing on tiptoe and her legs trembled.
Donna started mooing continuously.
“Make sure the head is not tipping back,” said Mr Thomas. “It should be between both hooves.”
Kate’s expression was determined. Her face was red with the effort as she pulled. Then her hand came out holding two little hooves.
“She’ll take over, Kate,” her dad said. “Let her go.”
Kate stood back. Donna snorted. Then I saw the nose – the nose of a baby cow – and I couldn’t stop myself crying. With another push from Donna, the calf ’s head hung down limply. I put my arm round Darren, who was in tears too. Then, with a final push, the calf dropped on to the bed of straw.
“Good girl!” said Morris proudly.
I blew air out my cheeks.
Donna’s calf was covered in blood and slime. Mr Thomas got down and started massaging it – it wasn’t breathing.
Kate knelt beside him. Without being asked she lifted the calf ’s head, forced open the mouth and blew into it. Nothing.
She tried again and I saw the calf ’s belly expand.
There was a snort and the calf cried out, sounding more like a baby lamb.
We all watched in silence as she struggled to get up. We willed her to stand on her own legs. She was so delicate – her legs looked like they could snap in half. She stumbled, and tried to get up again and again. She wobbled, staggered and fell. When she finally stood up she took two steps, raised her head and started taking milk from Donna. There were “ooh”s and “aah”s from all of us as Donna began to lick her clean. Everyone had tears in their eyes, even Roger.
“Thanks, Dad,” said Kate. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Mr Thomas seemed uncomfortable, like he’d forgotten we were there.
FORTY FOUR
As we waited for Kate to clean herself up Mr Thomas stood in Gran’s kitchen with his arms tightly wrapped around his chest.
“What about the calf?” Gran asked as she made tea. “I mean, what do we need to do?”
“Donna will look after her,” he said. “She’s done it before. But she’ll need some fodder, so I’ll drop some by tomorrow.”
“But … don’t you want them up at the farm?”
“Not the best time to be moving a cow and her calf. Better they stay here for now. That doesn’t mean all the cows,” he added sternly. “Just the cow and newborn.”
There was a knock on the door. I opened it to Kerry. She walked in just as Kate came down the stairs. “Everything all right?” she asked.
“She did fine,” said Mr Thomas.
“Yeah, Donna was great,” Kate said. “So patient.”
“I meant you,” said her dad. “Proud of you, I was.”
Kate’s face suddenly crumpled up. “Sorry, Dad. I’m sorry. I made such a mess of things. I don’t know why…”
Kerry hugged her. I felt like me and Gran shouldn’t have been there, like we were in their kitchen looking on.
Mr Thomas sat down at the table with a sigh. “Oh, it was already a mess, Kate. Your granddad was right, I don’t have the stomach for farming. I should have done something about it long ago.”
“He did say that, Dad,” said Kate. “But that’s not all…”
“What he said was nothing I didn’t already know.”
“No. He also said to Granma that you could bend wood with your hands, and that you had green fingers. Said you’d make a fine carpenter or gardener.”
“Wish he’d said it to me,” Mr Thomas muttered.
“I told it to you wrong, on purpose,” said Kate. “I was mad at you.”
“I sometimes wish I was a proper farmer like Mostyn,” he said. “Driving to be bigger and better.”
“I don’t,” said Kate.
“Me neither,” said Kerry.
“I tell you what was peculiar,” said Mr Thomas. “Seeing those cows on the Mawr Common. It triggered a memory – me taking cows down there as a boy, with my dad. Then they built the Mawr estate and it wasn’t safe to bring them down there any more.”
“The cows!” said Kate. “I forgot. We took six up to the field by the motorway.”
“They brought them back,” said Gran. “When they realised Donna was going to calve they decided they couldn’t leave them overnight. Sorry, Mr Thomas, we’ll take them all up to you tomorrow.”
“Well, nothing’s changed,” he said. “I still need to sell those twelve cows.”
“Thirteen now,” said Gran.
He nodded. “Aye, thirteen. I could take them to the livestock market, but just the cost of taking them there isn’t going to help me… I could go see Mostyn, cap in hand, ask him to reconsider; though he was pretty annoyed with me, as you can imagine.”
I thought of my meeting with Mostyn – I’d probably blown any chance of him changing his mind.
“How much would we need to buy them?” Gran asked.
“Oh, a lot. Thousands. You see, about eight of those cows were just going to pay back the debt I owe him. So I’ve not much choice.”
“Can we keep ’em until the end of the week?”
I’d spoken before I’d thought it through. Everyone was gawping at me.
“Any particular reason?” Mr Thomas asked.
“It’s what you said about a fete, Gran.”
“What about it?”
“Well, why don’t we have one? Like a party to see off the cows.”
Gran grinned at me. She seemed stuck for words for a moment, then she turned to Kate’s dad. “We’ve no right to ask anything of you, Mr Thomas, after what we did, but I think that’s a wonderful idea … a proper fete with a stalls, a tombola, a raffle … like in your father’s day. It’d be a proper send-off.”
Mr Thomas sighed. “I think my dad must have liked you.”
“Oh, I was invisible to him,” said Gran. “But I’ll confess something to you – I had an almighty crush on him. I kept tabs on what he was up to after the war, and I bumped into him once. I could hardly speak. A month or two later I heard he was getting married and I cried. He broke my heart without ever knowing it.”
Gran smiled.
“What if I go and speak to Don Mostyn myself?” she said to Mr Thomas. “You never know … if I tell him…”
“Gran. I already did.”
“When? You never said.”
“Yesterday. He’s only interested in money. I probably made it worse – called him ‘Miser Mostyn’. Sorry.”
“Oh, Gemma,” said Gran. “You shouldn’t have.”
Someone laughed. Mr Thomas was grinning at me.
He seemed different – sort of relaxed and kind. I glanced at Kate, who was smiling at me too. She had a lovely smile.
FORTY FIVE
“What is a fete, Mam?”
I was so glad Darren asked, because I wasn’t sure either. We were in the lounge working on the plan – everyone was getting into the idea.
“Well, it’s … it’s a party, I suppose, in a way,” said Mam. “Everyone enjoying a nice day outside with stalls and games. I remember the one we used to have on the C
ommon, like your gran mentioned.”
“Why did it stop?” I asked.
“I suppose the Mawr isn’t the place it used to be,” she said.
“What if it rains?”
“Maybe I can get the marquee from work.”
“The what?” asked Darren.
“It’s a big tent, love. We could have the stalls inside that if need be.”
My phone rang. It was Kate.
“All right?”
“Can you come to Cardiff with me?” she asked.
“Mam, Kate wants me to go to Cardiff with her.”
“What for?
“What for?” I asked Kate.
“I’ll tell you when I see you. S’important.”
Kate paid for my ticket. So there I was, sat beside her on the bus. I was glad she asked me, but Kate was looking out the window as if I wasn’t there. She seemed edgy.
“Karuna and Mr Banerjee are organising a Hindu thing, for the fete,” I said, just for something to say. “Can’t remember what it’s called, but it celebrates spring, apparently. There’ll be a tombola – which is like a raffle – Polly, Mrs Evans and Mave Rubens are doing that. Mrs Oleski and Mrs Choudary are doing cakes and hot drinks, and Roger’s in charge of music. My mam’s going to try and sort out a marquee … a big tent…” I was going on, which was probably annoying and I couldn’t bear the suspense, so I said, “Why we going to Cardiff?”
“To see Mr Phillips.”
“Oh… Who’s he?”
“He’s the man from Defra who was checking over the cows. I thought he might be able to help with this.” She gave me a piece of paper she’d printed off the Internet. It was all about kids visiting farms and learning about cows, pigs and everything.
“Looks good,” I said, though I didn’t know what it had to do with our cows.
“My dad’s worried about what to do,” said Kate.
“But he’ll have the cows back after the fete,” I said.
