by CJ Morrow
‘Get it. Get it now,’ Nathan shouted to Ella who stood motionless and blinking. ‘Get your damn bra.’
Ella shook herself and reached out and unwound her bra from Feral Billy’s horns. He bellowed again showing wide yellow teeth. He snapped his jaws.
‘Get out of the way, I can’t hold him,’ Nathan shouted as the goat shook him off. Nathan leapt out of the way; Ella ran inside and closed both sections of the door behind her, leaning against it, panting.
Knock, knock, knock, knock. Feral Billy again.
‘Ella, let me in.’
‘But you might be the goat.’ As soon as she said it she knew how stupid her words were. She flung open the door and Nathan fell through it, also panting.
‘He’s gone,’ Nathan said when he’d got his breath. ‘Why did you think I was him?’
Ella shrugged. Shook her head. Tried not to giggle. She was still clutching the bra to her chest. Nathan’s eyes passed over it. He smirked, then he laughed.
‘I hope that bloody bra was worth it,’ he said through his laughter.
Ella nodded; tears of mirth ran down her face. ‘It’s my best bra; it was very expensive.’
Nathan snorted.
‘It was so funny when you jumped on his back. I thought you were going to ride him.’
‘He thought so too. That’s why he was shaking me off so violently.’
‘I never realised goats got so big. He’s enormous.’ Ella wiped her eyes with her sleeve, not very ladylike but she didn’t care. She slumped down into a chair, still laughing, still clutching the bra. Her stomach ached.
‘After all that excitement I could do with that tea,’ Nathan said.
‘Good idea,’ Ella replied, between giggles.
While Nathan put the clothes rail up in the alcove Ella unpacked her clothes and sorted them into piles on the bed. It didn’t take very long for Nathan to finish the rail, showing it off to Ella by hanging a coat hanger on it and spinning it from one end to the other.
‘I could build you a shelf above, if you like. I’ve got the wood in the van.’
Ella looked at the piles of clothes, glanced around the room wondering where she was going to put them otherwise.
‘Could you? That would just be amazing. Of course, I’ll pay you.’
He gave her a sideways look followed by a thin smile and went out to his van. Ella wondered if she had offended him by offering to pay. Ten minutes passed and he hadn’t come back. Ella got up from the bed and looked out of the window. His van was still there.
‘Sorry that took so long,’ he said, appearing in the doorway. ‘I had to cut the wood to size.’ He showed her the shelf.
‘Looks great,’ she said, not knowing what else to say.
He looked at her and flashed a crooked smile. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Feral Billy wasn’t laying in wait.’
‘Would he do that?’
Now he laughed. And Ella joined in and they were giggling about the goat escapade again.
Nathan fell silent as he concentrated on putting the shelf up. Ella watched him as he worked. The white t-shirt was still spotless; she wondered how he did that. He was the complete opposite of her; she slopped everything down her clothes. But then, he was the complete opposite of the Nathan who played guitar. She heard herself sigh, hoped he hadn’t heard. He turned around and smiled, she smiled back, a little amused by the tool belt hanging loosely around his waist.
‘What’s that?’ Ella said. She could hear an odd tune playing outside, it sounded like a sea shanty.
‘Saturday. Tea time. It’s the fish and chip van.’
‘The what?’
‘No takeaways here, only the pub does meals, so the chip van comes round.’ Nathan’s stomach growled a rumble. Two seconds later hers did too.
‘Where is it?’
‘End of the lane.’
Ella scrabbled among the piles of clothes on the bed for her handbag, found her purse.
‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘My treat.’
‘I usually have large cod and chips.’
She dashed out of the cottage, ran to the end of the lane, cast her eyes about just in case Feral Billy was lurking.
‘I got us a couple of cans of shandy too,’ Ella said, when she returned. ‘Oh wow.’ Nathan had finished the shelf and had placed a pile of jumpers on it. ‘That is great. Thank you so much.’
‘My pleasure. I could probably fit doors on this alcove and then you wouldn’t need to buy a wardrobe. Which one’s mine,’ he said, eyeing the fish and chips.
‘This one.’ She handed it over. ‘Doors would be amazing, that’s such a good idea. I think most of my clothes will fit in there now.’
Nathan sat down on the floor, leaning against the end of the bed, ripped into his fish and chips. ‘And if not, there’s always the other alcove,’ he laughed. Ella slid down next to him; put the shandies on the floor between them.
‘He wasn’t there,’ Ella said, as she ate.
‘Who?’
‘Feral Billy. I checked.’
Nathan laughed again.
‘Is The Giddy Goat named after him?’
‘Don’t think so. It’s been around much longer than Feral Billy.’
‘Where does he come from?’
‘Escaped from a local farm probably. He’s been causing havoc for weeks now.’
‘Can’t something be done? RSPCA or something? Or can’t the farmer come and get him.’
‘I would think the farmer was glad to see the back of him. RSPCA weren’t interested either. I wouldn’t like to try and capture him, you saw the size of him, saw how strong he is.’
‘Maybe you could ride him back to the farmer.’ Ella giggled, nudged Nathan with her elbow. She watched him lick the grease off his fingers.
‘Maybe you could,’ he giggled back. ‘And maybe you could use your bra as reins.’ He nodded at the bedpost where it hung.
‘I think he’d look good in one of your white t-shirts,’ she said.
‘Who would?’ a voice said from the doorway.
‘Hal.’ Ella jumped up.
‘Ella. I thought I’d see if you’d like an early dinner, but I see you’ve already eaten.’ He looked down on them, his eyes scanning the piles of clothes on the bed and finally coming to rest on the bra dangling from the brass bedpost.
Nathan balled up his chip wrapper, took a long swig from his shandy can and stood up. He picked up his tools and moved towards the door, stood in front of Hal and waited for him to move. Hal stood his ground. Ella’s eyes flicked between them. The two men were about the same height, both tall. Hal had a luxurious mane of well groomed hair; Nathan had a number two crop. Hal was dressed in a designer tweed jacket and chino combo, Nathan in jeans and t-shirt. No one moved.
‘Hal. Nathan,’ Ella said eventually.
Hal turned, smiled a thin lipped smile. Nathan looked, didn’t smile then nudged Hal out of the way with his shoulder and was gone.
‘Nathan,’ Ella called, but he was out of the door and down the path and getting into his van. He didn’t look back.
‘Good riddance,’ Hal said and he leant down and kissed Ella hard on her greasy chip mouth.
Fourteen
‘Embarrassing,’ Ella told Sam later. ‘It looked as though Nathan was squaring up to Hal. I don’t know what that’s about.’
‘Lucky you; two of them fighting over you.’ Sam reclined on the sofa, her feet on a footstool.
‘I don’t think they were. Well, fighting yes. But not over me. I think they must know each other.’
‘Anyway,’ Sam said, ‘how’s it going with the cottage? Are you sleeping there tonight?’
‘Pretty much have to now. I’ve moved everything out. I going to clean the bedsit tomorrow but I’m hanging on to the keys until my contract’s up. I’m not letting them re-let it while I’m paying for it, even though they said they have a tenant waiting.’
‘That’s a bit mean,’ Sam said, stroking her bump which seemed to have g
rown a lot during her stay in hospital.
‘Well, they’ll get twice the rent.’ Ella tried not to sound annoyed.
‘I didn’t mean you, I meant them.’
‘Oh. Sorry, I’m so hyped up at the moment. It was such a great day until Hal arrived, though I do really like Hal, he’s so gorgeous. Have you met him? But that goat, I’ve never seen anything so funny, or so big.’
‘It does sound fun. I want to come and see your place, but I’ve got to wait until I get the say-so from the hospital.’
‘What exactly is wrong with you?’
‘Just exhaustion, they said, and stress.’
Ella smiled at Sam and reached over and rubbed her hand. She didn’t want to refer back to the row they’d had or the trouble she’d caused at work which had rebounded on Sam. She didn’t want to mention it in case it upset Sam again, and, if she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to churn up her own guilty feelings.
‘How did it go back at work?’
‘Okay. I’m going again next week, then that’s it. It’s just a handover really. It’s removed the nastiness I felt about it. Funny really, I would probably have left anyway now I’ve got the cottage; the journey is farther than I want to travel every day and it would be a right pain in winter. But, and this is the really odd bit, I probably wouldn’t have taken the cottage on if they hadn’t annoyed me so much, especially Tiffy ringing me in the middle of my visit to the solicitor.’ Ella gave a light little laugh and poured them both another glass of no-alcohol wine. ‘What do you think of this stuff?’ Ella held the glass up. Sam made a face. ‘Me too. Shall I put the kettle on?’
Ella didn’t leave it too late to drive back to Spring Cottage; she could tell Sam was tired but she was also apprehensive about negotiating country lanes in the pitch black. As she approached the cottage Walt stepped out from his home carrying a lantern.
‘We’re having a power cut,’ he said as Ella got out of the car. ‘Thought you might need this.’ He offered the lantern to her; a fat yellow candle burned in the middle of a metal and blue glass cage. It was really rather pretty.
‘Thank you,’ Ella said, wondering how much light it would provide.
‘I’ll see you to your door, young Ella.’ Walt took Ella’s arm as though she were the old person.
‘There’s really no need. It should be the other way round. I’m the one with the light now.’
Walt pulled a torch from his pocket, switched on its powerful beam and smiled. Ella wished he’d given her that rather than the pretty lantern.
‘Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite,’ Walt said as he hugged her at her front door.
Why did he have to say that? After she fumbled her way in and up the stairs Ella reminded herself that there was no where for bedbugs to hide, the place had been super-scrubbed and the mattress was new.
Once she’d clattered about in the half-lit bathroom and got ready for bed – a cursory face wash in cold water and a quick teeth scrub – she stumbled to her room under the candle’s flickering glow. She put the lantern on the bedside table and got into bed. It was so comfortable it made her smile. She debated whether to blow the candle out. It was thick and would probably last all night. She snuggled down into the bed, watched the candle make dancing shapes on the ceiling. Even with her eyes closed she was aware of those strange shapes. Supposing she knocked it over in the night. Could it use all the oxygen up in the room while she slept? Don’t be stupid, Ella. She leant over and blew the candle out. The room plunged into complete darkness. She snuggled down once more, closed her eyes and slept.
When she awoke daylight was flooding through the window – she needed to get some curtains but she’d just had the best night’s sleep in a long time. Once she’d blown that candle out she could remember nothing. And the bed was so comfortable and cosy.
She used the bathroom and wondered if it was too early to use Walt and Edna’s shower or maybe she could boil a kettle and have a strip wash. Urgh. It was too cold for that.
She found her frog onesie among the clothes hanging on the rail Nathan had put up and pulled it on, then went downstairs.
She tried the light switch – hurray the electricity was back on – then filled the kettle. She had a box of cereal in the cupboard and the remaining milk next to the sink. She made breakfast and sat at her dining table. Nathan’s idea to put it at the front was a good one; she could see out into the lane, see the other cottages. It felt so strange. She owned Spring Cottage, it was hers. It was home.
‘You’d love this place, mum,’ she said, looking up at the ceiling then letting her eyes fall on her mum’s boxes. Nathan had stacked them neatly in two piles in the corner. She’d have to find a home for the contents at some point.
Three loud knocks on the kitchen door made her jump.
‘Nathan?’ she called out, jumping up to greet him.
The knocks came again.
She called Nathan’s name, he didn’t reply. Why would he come round unannounced anyway, and so early? She shook her head.
The knocks came again.
‘Who’s there?’
This time there were four knocks.
‘Who’s there?’
Five knocks.
She ran to the kitchen window and pressed her face against the glass but she couldn’t see anything.
She ran upstairs, found her handbag in the bathroom and pulled her phone out. She rang Nathan’s number.
‘I think Feral Billy is back,’ she yelled without even saying hello.
‘Right. Okay.’
‘Have you just woken up?’ Ella heard the accusatory tone in her voice.
‘It’s six am. It’s Sunday.’
‘Oh. Sorry. But he’s knocking on my door.’ She ran down the stairs. ‘Listen.’ The knocking was now incessant.
‘Don’t open it.’
‘I won’t. But what can I do? He won’t go away. It’s driving me mad.’
‘Yeah. I know how he feels.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll come round. Give me ten.’ He ended the call.
The knocking didn’t stop.
‘What do you want?’ Ella shouted through the door. ‘Go away.’
But still the knocking didn’t stop, but it did get slower, quieter and then Ella even thought it had stopped only for it to start again, louder and more insistent.
Nathan arrived, knocked on the front door. Ella jumped at the stereo knocking. They went into the kitchen, listened to the knocking.
‘He’s on his last legs,’ Nathan said, once inside. ‘Apparently he’s been on a rampage, knocked down a shed on one of the allotments, head-butted a wall.’
‘Why’s he here? Why’s he knocking on my door? Shut up,’ she shouted. ‘Stop it.’
‘I think he will soon. When I looked at him he didn’t even attempt to run at me. He’s actually half sat down on your path, like a giant horned dog.’
‘Urgh. Do you think he might die there? I don’t want that.’
Nathan nodded slowly but didn’t reply. He was wearing a clean, pressed, white t-shirt, dark jeans. He had canvas shoes on and no socks. He’d obviously just jumped out of bed. Ella noticed how long and dark his eyelashes were, she had to stop herself from staring at him. She inhaled his odour, earthy and warm, not like Hal’s expensive aftershave.
‘Let’s go into the dining room, so it’s not so loud,’ Nathan said. He sounded weary.
Ella led the way into the dining room. Her half-eaten breakfast was still on the table. A large pot of tea was wrapped in a tea towel to keep it warm. Nathan looked at it, then went back and got himself a clean mug from the kitchen.
‘Do you mind?’ he said, pouring from the teapot.
‘Course not.’ Ella sat down. So did Nathan. He rubbed his head and his eyes.
‘Late night? Sorry, I didn’t realise it was so early when I rang you.’
‘Yeah, played in the pub. Just me and the guitar. Sang my own stuff.’
Ella nodded, wonder
ed if he’d sung the shitty song about her. ‘Do you want some cereal?’ she said, more to stop herself from dwelling on the song rather than because she thought he might be hungry.
‘Please.’
Ella pretended not to watch him eat the cereal but she couldn’t help herself.
Feral Billy’s knocking was getting slower and quieter.
‘This looks cosy,’ he said, pulling the sleeve of her Kermit onesie. Was he smirking?
‘Yeah.’
‘Don’t suppose you’ve got any toast?’ Nathan said when he’d finished the cereal.
‘Where do you think you are? A café?’ Ella laughed.
Nathan shrugged. Ella felt embarrassed. It was early. It was Sunday. He’d got out of bed as soon as she’d called. He was doing her a favour. Feral Billy knocked loudly several times, emphasising the point.
Ella thought of the stale bread she’d brought with her. She had no butter.
‘I could do meese toast,’ she said, getting up.
‘What’s that?’ He frowned.
‘Marmite, cheese. On toast.’ Ella waited for him to express disgust.
‘Okay.’ He nodded and waited.
She got the bread out, it was dry and she checked it for mould before putting two slices in the toaster. She unplugged the kettle from the socket then plugged the toaster in. Once done she spread them with marmite and layered them with thin slices of cheese. She did two more slices – for herself. She had to wait for the toaster to finish before she could plug in the microwave to melt the cheese.
She was arranging the meese toast on a plate when something caught her eye. She looked up. Nathan was leaning against the doorway watching her, smiling. She felt self conscious and wondered how long he’d been there.
‘We need to get your kitchen sorted out as a matter of priority, don’t we? You really need a fridge; I think your milk is on the turn.’ He laughed and went back into the dining room.
‘If I choose you,’ Ella said, following him and putting the meese toast plates on the table.
Nathan picked up a slice and watched it sag.
‘Obviously it’s better grilled, but…’ Ella shrugged then looked him full in the face daring him to criticise.
He took a large bite and chewed. She watched him. He blinked as he ate and she watched those dark lashes sweep over his ink-blue eyes. She’d never noticed how blue his eyes were. But then, she’d never been this close to him in daylight.
