‘Really?’
Issi nodded her head enthusiastically. ‘It’s their coming-out day. Tig says the fields have dried out enough and the grass is really coming through. They’re going into the pasture for the first time for months. Tig says it’s a sight to behold. He usually leaves Sunday milking to Ed or Phil but he’s keen to do it tomorrow.’
The following morning, Issi encouraged Fran out of bed with a cup of tea and the suggestion that shedressup warmly. ‘It’s going to be a lovely day but it’s a bit chilly at the moment. You know what spring is like – fickle.’
Fran found thick socks and scarves to go over her usual jeans and jumpers and joined Issi in the kitchen. She accepted the toast her friend handed to her, aware that Issi really wanted her to enjoy the cows. It had been a joke between them that Fran was frightened of them and, as jokes often do, it had an element of truth. It was ridiculous, here she was, trying to be a farmer – a dairy farmer – and she was nervous about getting too close to the creatures who produced her living. She resolved to toughen up.
She followed Issi out of the back door and along towards the milking parlour. There were threads of mist in the air and the promise of sunshine gave everything a magical quality. The hedges were fuzzy with leaves about to open and splashes of white, which, Issi had told her, having been told by Tig, was blackthorn, which would turn into sloes in the autumn. There’d be wild garlic to make pesto with in the woods very soon, and the birds were singing.
‘It doesn’t get better than this,’ Fran said.
‘It doesn’t, does it?’ Issi agreed. ‘It’s so wonderful hearing birds instead of police sirens.’
‘It is. I’m going to learn which bird makes which sound,’ said Fran. ‘There’s an app you can get.’
Issigiggled. ‘I don’t suppose Amy would approve of apps to learn about birdsong.’
‘As long as I learn. I won’t tell her how.’
There was so much about the countryside to love, she decided, and it would break her heart if it was all taken away from her.
Tig came over.
‘Fran,’ said Tig.
‘Tig,’ said Fran.
‘Come to see the cows?’
Fran nodded. She looked nervously at them. They seemed to know something special was about to happen and were stamping and huffing in a slightly terrifying way.
They stood well back as Tig opened the huge gate that opened on to the field. The cows came out, bucking and leaping like lambs, so excited they didn’t know what to do with themselves.
‘I’ll bring them in at night for a week or two maybe, but after that they’ll be out all the time,’ Tig said.
Seeing such large animals cavorting about in the spring sunshine, surrounded by birdsong and the acid green of newly emerged foliage, made Fran want to laugh and cry at the same time.
‘Cool, isn’t it?’ said Issi with a sigh.
‘Super cool,’ Fran agreed.
Then Fran glanced at her friend and noticed she was looking at Tig, not the cows. While they werebothcity chicks, they had both found happiness back on the land. Although she adored the fact her best friend from school had come to share her adventure and was possibly falling in love, it added hugely to her sense of responsibility. It wasn’t just her home that could be lost if Amy left Hill Top to Roy. It was Tig’s and possibly Issi’s.
Still, it was spring, Roy had left – for a little while at least – and they had the place to themselves.
‘I wonder if Roy is feeling like the cows, all bouncy and with that “let out of school” feeling?’ said Issi.
‘I’m definitely feeling as if the class bully has gone away for a bit. Let’s ask Tig if he’d like to come for breakfast.’
‘Good idea,’ said Issi.
‘I bought some amazing bacon at the market yesterday. I’ll make fried bread,’ said Fran.
‘Bit fattening, isn’t it?’
‘Not for Tig. Agricultural workers use up a lot of calories, they need the fat.’
‘Hmm,’ said Issi, ‘I’m sure that was true back in the nineteenth century, but he does spend quite a lot of time driving around on that tractor.’
