Jake lifted the axe and let it fall on the tree. “You know this is because your residents let her in.” His sigh almost emptied his lungs enough to make him feel dizzy. He’d avoided telling Zack this, mainly because he knew it was Percy Peters who encouraged the alpacas to come into the grounds, and then inside the home, and Zack would look to try to stop Percy.
“It’s because you need to keep them in a different field.”
Jake shook his head. “You know they like it there.” He dropped the axe and eyed his cousin. “I have a dozen more arriving on Monday.”
“No, you don’t.” Zack shook his head.
“I really do. A petting zoo shut down in Evesham and they needed to be rehomed.”
Zack stared at the heavens, clearly praying. Jake knew he’d be ignored by his cousin for the next few days, unless he was buying him a pint in the pub.
“What else is coming to live here? Because you know this is turning into a fucking animal sanctuary. Sorrell’s now thinking about going vegetarian.” Zack shook his head again.
Jake sometimes wondered if he had a crick in it from repetitive strain, given how much he shook it.
“Not my fault or problem.”
“So what else turns up on Monday?”
Jake cracked his fingers. It was a bad habit from when he was younger, and he still did it when he wasn’t exactly sure how to answer.
“Ducks. More hens. Two Shetland ponies and three horses. Seven goats.” He paused, allowed himself to make eye contact with Zack. “There’s Naomi the Guinea pig and her mate, Orlando. I’ve been told I need to keep the names.”
“And the rest?”
Jake shrugged. “Two rare breed pigs.”
Zack nodded this time. Probably for the exercise. “Where are you going with this? I know you have the land, but keeping all these animals is going to be costing you, and they don’t bring in an income.”
“Spoken like a true farmer’s son.” Jake wondered how many days Zack’s body would provide food for the pigs. “I make enough.”
“I know. And the festival’s going to bring in a ton. Maybe you could invest in a really good electric fence to keep your beasts out of my business?”
Gertrude chose this moment to gallop towards them, making a direct line for Zack, who for some reason she adored even though he’d quite happily put her in a stew.
“Thought she was in the dance hall?” Jake pointed at Zack.
“Like I’d leave her in there.”
“Alpacas are really clean animals. They have an area they use as a toilet – they don’t just crap anywhere, and anything with animals is good for people with dementia.” Jake had said this over and over, and it usually fell on deaf ears. “Your residents encourage them in.”
Zack rubbed his face. “I know.”
Jake almost collapsed on the spot. The blame had always been placed firmly at Jake’s feet: the fence hadn’t been secured properly; he’d left a gate open; he’d deliberately let the alpacas into the care home grounds – the list had been endless. Jake knew that pretty much every time, one of the residents that lived at Sunrise had encouraged Gertrude or one of her friends into the grounds.
“You’ve known all along?”
“No. No. Because I’m pretty sure you’ve let them in a time or two. And the repair job you did on the fence last October was pathetic.” Zack stared at Gertrude. “Plus she has the intelligence of Einstein and I’m pretty sure she can unlock doors.”
No, that would be Percy Peters.
“Clever animals those alpacas.”
“Shame cousins aren’t as smart.”
“You including Rayah in that?” Jake grinned. Rayah had once tied Zack to a tree and left him there for nearly an hour. Zack hadn’t even realised what she was doing.
“Rayah knows how to dispose of a body.” Zack paused. Stared at Jake. “Sorrell keeps going on about how therapeutic animals are. She’s raving about what Lainey’s doing here with the people she treats or whatever you call it.”
