18.
Looks like rain, dear
‘All on your own, Pom Pom?’
By the time Bill’s face appears around the stable doorway, Fliss is long gone. I can’t fault her solidarity, she’d happily have stayed, but with Harriet and Oscar cold, hungry and howling it was better for us all if I waited by myself.
‘There was no point everyone hanging around, they sped off to a multiplex somewhere.’ Five minutes of Libby’s lot flicking cream at each other off the top of their takeaway hot chocolates was enough for all of us.
As I get up from my straw bale Bill’s shaking his head and wincing. ‘I see why they called for the farm car. Shall we get off?’
‘You might want to see the baby donkey first?’ I should have had enough of donkeys for one day, but I’m up for one last ear rub.
‘If it’s wearing a Santa hat, I already saw it.’
I can’t believe he’s so unenthusiastic. ‘But didn’t you love the bells on his lead rope and how fluffy he is? Did you stroke his ears and feel how soft they were?’
Bill’s looking down at me. ‘It’s a donkey. What else is there to say?’ As if we needed any more proof that this man is a cold hearted Christmas-phobe, he comes out with this. He shrugs. ‘Anyway, I’ve brought you this.’ He tosses me a bag. ‘No need to look that worried, it’s only overalls.’
‘Brown velvet?’ The fabric I’m peering at in the bag is way too similar to a donkey’s nose for comfort.
‘It’s a onesie from stag lost property.’ He pulls a face. ‘To cover up whatever you fell in until we get you into my shower.’
I should be jumping at another chance to get my hands on his scent shelf, but after this morning’s assault, I seriously doubt my nose will ever work again.
‘Antlers attached to the hood?’ I’m shaking out a full Rudolf outfit here and my stomach feels like there are iron hands closing around it. For a moment I just know I’m going to throw up every last griddle scone. And then I get control of my throat, and somehow breathe, and will the vomit wave to go back down again.
‘Everything okay there? I can’t see much of your face, but the bits I can have gone all green.’
The stable’s coming in and out of focus and inside my hat my scalp is prickling with heat. I snort in another breath, and try to smooth out my voice where it’s gone all wobbly. All the onesies he might have picked up, and he had to choose a bloody reindeer suit. When Fliss talks about me being unfortunate she’s truly not joking. Except that’s exactly what I’ve taught myself to try not to think.
I’m resigned to the world always looking like a different place from the one I knew before the accident, and I know I never deserve to be happy again. But there are so many Christmases ahead of me, and however hard it is, I have to try to move on and hold it together. Which mostly I’ve managed pretty damned well, until bloody Bill randomly dropped this suit on me. I pull in another breath. Realistically, apart from having antlers, it’s nothing like the one I was wearing for the Christmas party the night of the accident anyway. I just have to think of it as a way of enveloping the dirt and pull it on.
Bill shrugs. ‘It’ll keep you warm, you must be freezing after waiting in the cold.’
‘Great.’ I’ll put this off for as long as I can. ‘If I’m parading the whole length of the stable yard I’d rather do it as my dirty self than dressed like I’m about to be harnessed to Santa’s sleigh, I’ll put it on when we get back to the car.’ As we make our way to the Landy, it hits me I’m also forgetting my manners. ‘It’s very kind of you to come to pick me up. Milo offered me a lift but his upholstery wasn’t suitable.’
‘Milo the scone baker?’ Bill narrows his eyes and jumps the puddles in the gravel as we head towards the car.
‘Scone baker extraordinaire …’ I look down at Merwyn, pleased we’ve changed the subject. ‘… he’s a dog lover too.’
Bill sniffs. ‘Well, he’s not alone there, we all like dogs.’
I’m so indignant my voice is all high. ‘No you don’t, last week we had to practically beg you to let Merwyn stay.’
He shrugs as he reaches over and unlocks the Land Rover door. ‘Here, I’ll hold onto him while you climb into your overalls.’
I’m exchanging WTF? glances with Merwyn as I hand over his lead to Bill. Then I screw up my courage, swallow down the sour saliva in my mouth, tell myself over and over again it’s only a reindeer suit, and pull the damn thing on. By the time I’m all in and zipping up Bill and Merwyn are both looking down on me from the bench seat in the front of the Land Rover. As I clamber in and slam the door Bill’s looking even more superior than usual.
‘Being prissy about his seats, it’s exactly what I’d expect from someone like Milo. I bet the car’s not even his.’
Whatever’s got into Bill, I have to stick up for Milo. ‘That wasn’t his fault, it was Libby who didn’t want me to wreck his interior.’
‘And so what, the guy bakes scones. Scone baking’s not that special.’
I give Bill a look across the dashboard. ‘You obviously didn’t taste them or you’d know they were …’ … all that …And more.
He pulls down the corners of his mouth. ‘I’ll take your word for it. From where I was standing it looked a lot like showing off.’ He looks at me as we come to a T junction. ‘You do know you’ve still got your hat on.’
