by Lucy Daniels
Turning, he walked along the hallway and rounded the corner to go upstairs. Mandy pushed through the front door. Once in the garden, she took a few deep breaths. She went to get the pack of dog chews from the car. Given that they didn’t want to load the animals until the last minute, she decided to spend a bit of time trying to get Shy used to her.
When Mandy returned to the cottage, Seb was at the door. ‘I found your other cat,’ he announced. ‘And another lot of kittens with her.’
Mandy peered into the cage Seb had set down on the other side of the hall from the silver tabby. The tortoiseshell cat stared back at her, eyes unblinking. Beside her lay two sick-looking kittens, one ginger and white, one tortoiseshell like her mother. Their eyes were inflamed and oozing. The ginger and white kitten could barely open its left eye. As Mandy looked, it opened its mouth in a silent meow that tugged at her heart. Poor defenceless little thing.
‘We’ll get those eyes cleared up soon,’ Mandy promised, as much to the kitten itself as to Seb. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed a towel that was hanging on a hook on the wall. She carried it back and laid it over the cage to give the mother and kittens a hiding place.
‘The collie is upstairs,’ Seb reported. ‘She’s lying on what I presume was Mr Grimshaw’s bed.’
Mandy walked along the corridor to the back of the house. Although the tiles in the hallway were filthy, she could see that they were original Yorkshire flagstone. The narrow uncarpeted staircase led up to a tiny landing. A handrail on carved wooden spindles curved round to enclose a small hallway with a low ceiling. The bedroom on the left was empty, but when she looked inside the doorway to the right, she could see an ancient iron bedstead and twisted blankets caked in animal hair. Right in the centre, curled up in a ball, was the collie.
She lifted her head as Mandy came in, her eyes narrow and wary. With a low growl, she flitted off the bed to hide on the far side. As quietly as she could on the bare floorboards, Mandy tiptoed around the bed. As with the cats, she was careful not to approach head on. The dog was beautiful in spite of her condition. Her coat was unkempt, but her bright eyes were set in an intelligent face. Symmetrical black markings covered her muzzle and a thin white stripe ran down the centre of her nose.
When Mandy was still quite a distance from the terrified animal, she crouched down and leaned against the wall, facing sideways to the dog.
‘Hello, Shy.’ She tried to make her voice as warm as possible and for an instant, the ears, which had been flat against Shy’s head, twitched forwards. Putting her hand into her pocket, Mandy took out some food and flicked it along the floor towards the cowering animal, then stayed very still. From the corner of her eye, she saw Shy reach forward and sniff suspiciously at the chew. With her eyes still on Mandy, she picked up the treat, nibbled it and swallowed.
As soon as it was gone, Mandy tossed another piece. Again the suspicious look, followed by movement and chewing. After a few minutes, the collie had moved several inches towards Mandy. Rather than try to catch her now, Mandy decided the dog would be safe in the house until they were finished outside. Her parents would be busy for a while. There was such a lot to do and they still had to find some kind of shelter for the animals outside as well as food. With a last glance towards the frightened-looking dog, she stood up. Backing away, she left the bedroom and walked downstairs and out of the house into the yard.
To her amazement, a large bale of hay stood in the centre of the concrete.
‘Where did that come from?’ Mandy asked Emily, who was holding the head of one of the sheep while Adam injected her.
‘It was from Bert Burnley,’ said her mum. ‘Jimmy got in touch with him and he brought it along. Jimmy called Mr Hapwell from Twyford as well. He’s promised to bring some concentrate for both the sheep and the cattle, enough for a day or two. And Graham from Upper Welford Hall is bringing down their crush so we can examine the cows properly.’
Mandy felt bewildered. She hadn’t been expecting anything like this. It seemed that Jimmy had brought together half the farming community to help out.
Adam finished injecting and looked up. ‘He’s even persuaded Sam Western to donate some straw.’
Mandy stared at her mum and dad. ‘Where is Jimmy now?’ she asked.
‘You hear that hammering?’ Emily grinned as Mandy turned her head to listen. ‘That’s him. He’s round the back of one of the empty sheds, making it safe so the animals have some shelter for the night. We thought it would be better not to move them for a day or two. If you agree, that is?’
Mandy raised an eyebrow. ‘You don’t need to ask me. You know that.’
Emily pressed her lips together, but her eyes were smiling. ‘I know I don’t need to, but I want to. This is your thing, your area of speciality. Seb and you are in charge. Your dad and I would never turn our backs on animals in need, but we’re here to assist, not to lead.’
Mandy stood very still. ‘Thanks, both of you,’ she said eventually. ‘In that case, I agree with you. I think it would be very good if the animals could stay here a couple of days. Just until they’ve had time to gain some strength. In the meantime,’ she squared her shoulders, ‘I think I’d better go and say thank you to Jimmy Marsh.’
Following the noise of ongoing carpentry, Mandy rounded the largest of the empty sheds. Halfway up a ladder, Jimmy Marsh was fixing a plank into place, blocking up a dangerous-looking gap in the weatherboarding. His movements were skilful and Mandy stopped, mesmerised by his precision. She had always liked watching craftsmen at work.
Jimmy checked that the plank was secure and descended to the ground. Turning towards the frame where more planks were balanced, he caught sight of Mandy watching him.
‘Hello,’ he said.
Mandy felt herself going red. What would he think of her, staring at him like that? He always seemed to catch her at awkward moments.
‘Hi,’ she managed, then, ‘I just wanted to say thanks for everything. I mean the straw and the feed and getting in touch with so many people.’ She stuttered to a halt and he smiled.
‘I’m glad to help,’ he said. ‘I’m just fixing this so the animals can stay here for now.’
‘Oh … good.’ There was silence. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, but her mind was empty. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Mandy blurted out.
For a moment, she hoped he would refuse, but his green eyes rested on her, his expression pleased. ‘You could hold some nails for me,’ he said. ‘I keep having to go up and down the ladder. I’ve nothing to hold them in.’
Mandy could feel her face flushing. Hold nails? Why didn’t he put them in his pocket? It sounded like he was humouring her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have enough to do, but it would be rude to walk away when he had done so much. She held out a reluctant hand for the nails and followed him as he walked back and climbed the ladder.
It was the first time since the morning that Mandy had had a moment to stand still. Perched above her, Jimmy had positioned the board and was hammering nails in with effortless efficiency. As he reached down to grab a new nail, he grinned at her.
‘Why are you here?’ Mandy found herself asking, then kicked herself. It sounded insulting. ‘I mean, you seem to have contacted half the village and got them all to help out.’
Still not right, she thought, but he didn’t seem offended. ‘I wanted to help,’ he began, then paused. ‘I get the feeling you think I don’t know much about the countryside,’ he went on, ‘but I spent my teenage years in the Lake District.’ Mandy frowned, but Jimmy continued, ‘You probably remember, a few years back, the Foot and Mouth outbreak?’
Of course she remembered it. For the whole of the summer, Mandy had barely been allowed out. Hillwalking and cycling had been outlawed. When she had been able to accompany her parents on visits, she could remember scrubbing the car wheels, dipping her boots in disinfectant at every farm. Nobody wanted to call out the vet unless it was essential. Paranoia had hung over Welfor
d for months on end.
‘It devastated the area around my village,’ Jimmy said. ‘Most of my friends at school grew up on farms.’ His voice was grim. For the first time, he stopped working and gazed down at Mandy. ‘I can still remember their faces. They were family farms and my friends had grown up there. They had to watch their animals burn.’ For a moment, he clenched his teeth together, then he took a deep breath. ‘The community spirit carried them through. People helped one another. My best friend’s father lost his whole herd of pedigree shorthorns. Farmers from all over the UK sent him pedigree cattle to restock.’
He was silent for several moments, apparently wrestling with his memories. Then shaking his head, he lifted his hammer and sent another nail into the board. Examining his handiwork, seemingly satisfied, he climbed down the ladder and stood looking at Mandy. ‘I want to give something back to the communities I work in,’ he said. ‘I know how important it is for people to pull together.’ He paused, a look of contemplation on his face. When he spoke again, his voice had fallen so low, Mandy had to strain her ears to hear. ‘And I wanted to help the old man. My dad suffered from Alzheimer’s. I wanted to help Robbie Grimshaw by helping his animals.’
Silence stretched between them. Mandy had asked her question in the most casual way. His reply had been intensely personal.
‘Thanks for telling me,’ she managed eventually. She had the sudden urge to reach out and hug him, but they stood there for what seemed an age, before Jimmy broke the silence.
‘It was a long time ago,’ he said. ‘I hope I haven’t upset you.’
Mandy shook her head. The man standing in front of her seemed very different from the arrogant incomer who had teased her about her protectiveness of the countryside. She wanted to tell him how touched she was, but there were no words that seemed to cover it. ‘Thanks again for everything you’ve done,’ she said. Hearing the sound of a tractor, she was glad of an excuse to get away. ‘I’d better go and see who that is,’ she said, and before he could reply, she turned and hurried off.
The tractor was being driven by Graham, and a gleaming metal cattle crush was attached to the back. Seb appeared from the house and he and Graham manoeuvred the crush into position at the end of the race they had made with the pallets.
Once it was set up, the stockman climbed over the wall into the old pigsty. ‘Which do you want in first?’ he asked. ‘Not that I can give you a guarantee of your first choice,’ he added, eyeing the wild-looking Galloway.
‘Ideally the cut shoulder.’ That was the most urgent, Mandy thought. It would need a fair few stitches. ‘Though if necessary, we’ll deal with them in the order they come.’ She watched, hardly daring to breathe as the cows circled their small pen. There wasn’t much space; if one of the beasts kicked out at Graham, it could be serious. But within moments, he had sent the correct cow up the chute and the animal was racing towards the self-locking yoke at the far end of the crush. Seconds later, her head was trapped.
‘I’m going to need some clean water,’ Mandy said, as she examined the wound more closely. It looked recent and clear of dirt, which meant the chances of healing were good, but she would still need to bathe it. As Seb headed towards the cottage, she made her way to her car. Opening the boot, she selected Hibiscrub for cleaning, as well as local anaesthetic and a suture kit. Fetching an old milk crate, she turned it upside down, spread out a sterilised tea towel, and set her kit on top.
The local anaesthetic was painful so close to the open wound, and as Mandy injected, the cow shifted and bellowed. But as soon as the local began to work, the animal settled. Mandy put in sutures, first the muscle layer, then under the skin, to bring everything together neatly. Finally, she wielded the sturdy needle that was needed to penetrate the thick hide of the cow. Standing back a few minutes later, she was pleased with the job she had done. The edges of the cut were well aligned; the stitches evenly spaced.
‘I’m just going to check her over,’ she announced to Seb, who was watching. Working round the cow, she assessed her condition score and general health. Apart from being thin, she seemed in good shape. ‘I’ll check if she’s in calf,’ Mandy commented. As the welfare officer looked on, she shimmied up and over the pallet nearest the crate. Pulling on one of the long gloves she had received from her friends in Leeds, she lubricated her arm and inserted it into the cow’s rectum. As always, she was struck by the heat of the cow’s body through the thin glove. Extending her arm carefully so as not to damage the thin lining of the gut, she felt for evidence that the cow was in calf. To her surprise, she felt a small hoof under her hand.
‘She’s quite well on,’ Mandy said. ‘More than five months. Probably a good bit more.’
Seb raised his eyebrows. ‘I can’t believe she’s kept it in those conditions.’
Mandy nodded as she withdrew her arm and peeled off the glove. She scratched the cow’s tail-head. ‘We’ll look after both of you, sweetheart.’
One by one, they put the rest of the cows through the crush, checked, treated and assessed. All six were in calf. Mandy couldn’t help feeling pleased. It would make it easier to rehome them than if they had been barren.
Jimmy had completed his repairs by the time they finished. Adam and he had rolled out the bale of straw to make luscious, knee-deep bedding, and Emily and Seb had filled the mangers with hay and the troughs with sheep and cattle feed. Graham had returned to Upper Welford to milk. So it was just the five of them who stood leaning on the top rail of the newly mended pen, looking at the animals. The horse, his feet trimmed, had made his way more steadily into the barn than Mandy had hoped. The cows looked much better standing in fresh straw, munching hay. It was only the two oldest sheep that still looked in a sorry state.
‘The one with the white spots on her face is the worst,’ said Adam. It was the ancient sheep with the awful teeth. Mandy gazed at her. Despite her father and mother’s best efforts, the ewe still couldn’t stand. Although they had set two pails close to her with food and water, and a pile of hay beside her, she didn’t seem interested. The other, another Swaledale but with more regular markings, was at least chewing hay.
‘We’ll have to see how they get on,’ she said. If the old ewe continued to be as bad, they would have to consider euthanasia. Crossing her fingers, Mandy tried not to be pessimistic, but the poor creature really did look sorry for herself.
‘There’s just the dog in the house now.’ Seb turned to Mandy. ‘Jimmy’s going to board the house up once you’ve got her out. There are no other animals inside. I’ve checked thoroughly.’
‘Thanks, Seb.’ Mandy hadn’t forgotten Shy. The little collie had been flitting in and out of her mind the whole time Mandy had been working with the cows. She went back to the boot of her car and took out a rope lead. There was no space in the boot of her car for the dog. Walking back round to the yard, she approached Adam.
‘Dad,’ she said, and he looked round. ‘There’s no room in my car for the dog,’ she said. ‘Would you be able to take mine back down and leave me the Land Rover, please?’
‘Of course,’ her dad replied.
Making sure her pockets were full of treats, Mandy made her way back up to the dimly lit bedroom. As she entered, she saw the slim black and white body dart from the centre of the bed, back down against the far wall. She heard a low growl as she walked across the bedroom, but when she rounded the corner and Shy’s eyes met hers, the growling stopped.
‘Not going to growl, now you know it’s me?’ she asked the collie as she slid down the wall into a crouching position. Again, she made her voice warm. The wary brown eyes watched her. ‘Now, how are we going to get this leash onto you?’ Mandy said, thinking aloud. If she climbed onto the bed, Shy might feel Mandy was invading her personal space. Even with the treats, Mandy had not managed to persuade the dog far enough out from the corner that she could get near her head. She didn’t want to move the bed either. Anything that would scare Shy would make things worse.
She eyed the
metal bed frame. Like so many old beds, the frame was tall. Perhaps she could crawl underneath it and approach that way. If she stayed far enough in front of the collie, she could use the treats again to entice her forwards. She would be less threatening crawling underneath than if she just appeared above Shy’s head.
It looked as though there was ten years of dust under the bed. With a rueful glance at her good trousers, Mandy knelt down and started to crawl. Trying not to think about what might be under her hands, she made her way across, aiming towards the foot of the bed. She hoped Shy would not feel the need to make a run for it. Though the dog’s eyes followed her every move, she remained still.
‘I’m guessing you think I’m crazy,’ Mandy muttered. Once again there was that all-too-brief forward movement of the black ears. With her curled-up body, frightened eyes and ears that were flattened against her skull, Shy’s body language was screaming that she was afraid.
Mandy paused and pushed her hand into her pocket to retrieve a handful of food. One at a time, she tossed the treats in front of Shy. Inch by inch, stopping each time to throw treats until Shy had relaxed, Mandy crept forwards until she was within arm’s reach of the collie’s attractive little face. Pulling out the quick-release leash, she made the rope into a large loop. Holding it out, she allowed Shy to sniff the rope. Edging it along and at the same time encouraging Shy forwards with the food, Mandy was able to get it round the collie’s neck and tighten it.
Once it was on, Mandy couldn’t help letting out a sigh of relief. Gripping the handle, she crawled backwards and, by dint of encouragement and gentle pressure, Shy followed her until they reached the far side of the bed.
It was time to stand up, thought Mandy, but again it was essential she didn’t spook the little collie. Any change in position could make her seem like a threat again.
‘Just as well you’re hungry,’ she said to Shy. Dropping treats, she stood up in stages, first to her knees, then crouching, finally upright. All the time, she kept her body from facing Shy directly and avoided leaning over her.
