‘Ros, you’re a grown woman. You can handle anything and anyone. Including Gazza.’ He went to kiss her cheek and she froze. ‘We need to normalise this. Okay?’

She closed her eyes and took a breath. ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. Go ahead.’

He leaned forward and Ros tried very hard not to pull her chin into her chest. Cameron kissed her briefly on the cheek. ‘See, not so bad. Some might even say stupendous.’

Ros smiled despite herself. ‘We need to fill in some blanks.’

‘Leave it with me, I’ll think of something.’ He crouched down at the door as Gazza ran to him. ‘Now you need to be nice and try to bond. That means no barking, no chewing and no farting. Got it? You too, Gazza,’ he said with a wink at Ros as he left.

Gazza spun around and stared at Ros. ‘I know, but we’ll just have to make the best of it. Okay?’ Gazza barked and Ros jumped. ‘I very much hope that was a yes.’

Chapter Twelve

It was a sunny Friday afternoon and Darla decided to take a wander down to Nettle Bank Farm and pick up the hay to save Elliott a job. It was partly that she was trying to be helpful but mainly that she was being nosy. She’d never lived in the countryside before let alone next to an actual working farm and she was interested to see what it was like. She was a city kid and whilst she was grateful for the loving family home she’d been brought up in she was excited to explore what was on her doorstep.

If she’d had the money she would have been travelling a lot further afield. That was what The Wanker had promised. He’d painted enticing pictures of exotic locations, told her stories of deserted beaches and stunning lagoons. She’d been utterly bamboozled. Just the thought of it filled her with shame. That she’d been so easily hoodwinked made her feel such a fool. He’d charmed her. Told her how amazing she was and she’d believed him. Her parents had had their doubts and tried to warn her but she’d thought she knew best. Because how could someone who made her feel so very special be anything but a good guy? How wrong she’d been.

It was hard to move on emotionally when she was still paying off the debts, which were going to take longer than she’d hoped to clear but she was getting there slowly. It was like The Wanker still had a hold over her and she hated that. She felt sad if she spent too much time thinking about her situation and how she’d got there.

All she could do now was focus on the positives and house-sitting at The Brambles was definitely one of them. There was the slightly daunting responsibility of a multitude of animals that was weighing on her but she was trying hard not to stress about that. It was a beautiful sunny afternoon with a sky full of lazy clouds. She followed the hedgerow with a basket of eggs in the crook of her arm, and walked past fields of sheep until she reached a turning and a rickety sign for the farm. She made her way along the dirt track until she saw a large house, not dissimilar to The Brambles – only bigger and flanked by large barns. She knocked on the door and waited. There was no response. She looked about her. It was very quiet. Did farmers have Fridays off? she wondered.

A meow made her turn around to see Winston trotting up to greet her. Darla put down the basket and gave the cat some fuss. He rubbed happily around the basket and Darla’s legs.

‘Where’s your daddy?’ she asked. ‘Is he busy being grumpy somewhere?’

‘Hello, can I help?’ said someone behind her, making her start.

Darla stood up to find a man with a shaved head wearing green overalls. ‘Hi. I was after Elliott?’

‘He’s gone fixing fences on the north border. Phone signal is a bit wobbly down there but I could try giving him a call. Unless I can help you?’

‘I’m sure you can. I’m Darla.’

He wiped his hands on his overalls and then glanced over them. ‘Actually I won’t shake hands because they’re still a bit grubby. I’m Lee, senior farm hand at your service.’

‘Nice to meet you, Lee. Elliott said he could let me have a small supply of hay for the goats at The Brambles.’

‘Right.’ He pointed at her. ‘You’re the one he was having a rant about.’ Darla pulled her chin in, making him shake his head. ‘I say rant. What I mean is obviously not a rant – more a one-way conversation. Sort of a chat with himself. Nothing bad. Not really . . . Anyway, hay! I can sort that out. I’ll bring it down to The Brambles when I finish, if that works for you?’

‘Any charge for delivery?’ she asked. She didn’t want to get lumbered with an unexpected bill. She’d definitely learned her lesson the hard way.

‘No, course not.’

‘Brilliant. Here’s the eggs I agreed with Elliott as payment,’ she said, handing over the basket. ‘I might be out at work so would it be okay for you to leave it by the back door please?’

‘No trouble. It’s nice to meet you, Darla. Please don’t think I’m being rude but I’ve got a sheep with scald that I need to treat. I’d better get on.’

‘Don’t let me keep you. You get back to your scalded sheep. And thanks for your help.’

‘Pleasure,’ said Lee, walking away.

Darla set off back to The Brambles wondering if there was a local course in animal management she could do. The library books were a bit dry and long-winded. She’d never been the sort of person who learned from books; she did much better if someone showed her how to do something. When she’d made it to the end of the track she had a sense that she wasn’t alone. A quick look over her shoulder revealed Winston was trotting along behind her. He looked up at her. He was a handsome chap and she had liked the idea of there being a cat on the premises. It didn’t look like Elliott had much time to spend with Winston in the day; perhaps she could borrow him. She glanced about. There was no one there. She crouched down and Winston saw that as an invitation to rub round her legs.

‘I’ve got cat food and tuna at my place but you mustn’t rat me out,’ she told the cat. Winston ran on ahead. He was clearly a smart feline.

Darla liked her job at the cocktail bar. She’d learned lots about bar work and it was a skill she could utilise if she ever got the chance to travel the world. Her shifts with Cameron were the more fun ones but today he was updating her on Ros, which was making her laugh so much she had to put down the bottle of vodka she’d been about to replace on the optic.

‘I mean it, Darla. Ros makes control freaks look easy-going. I am really struggling to figure her out. I have never come across anyone like her. And before you say anything, I am trying. Really I am,’ said Cameron.

‘I know Ros can be . . .’ Darla had to search for the right word ‘. . . a bit difficult sometimes but she’s a good person. And I’m proud to call her my friend. She was there for me when I first came to Southampton and had nobody.’ He didn’t need to know that it had taken a lot of knocks on Ros’s door, multiple failed attempts at small talk and a couple of batches of her famous brownies before Ros had accepted defeat and let Darla into her life. But even Ros had admitted that she was glad she had done.

‘I agree. I think under all the stiffness and armour she’s probably a lovely woman, but I don’t know if I’ll get under all that in twelve weeks or however long we have.’

‘So what could you do?’ asked Darla.

Cameron tilted his head as if thinking the question over. ‘Stick it out, I suppose,’ he said at last.

‘Up to you.’ Darla shrugged.

‘You think I should do more don’t you?’ said Cameron.

‘She is paying you well for doing this. And it’s so far out of her comfort zone she may as well be on another planet. There is no blueprint for what you two are doing and that’s why she’s going overboard with the flip charts. They’re her comfort blanket. And until she feels back in control of the situation she’s going to have you workshopping the shit out of things. So yeah, I think maybe you could help her a bit more, and I think you’d benefit from it too. Ros is a good person to have in your life, so if you’re lucky, after the sad bit is over, you might have made a friend.’

‘Hmm, you could have something there.’ He seemed to be thinking again but then he snapped out of it. ‘Anyway, how are things with you?’ he asked.

‘Well, the good part is that my new house-sitting job is in this gorgeous old house, next to a farm. The not so great bit is that there’s ducks, geese, goats and chickens, all of which I have no idea how to look after and they seem to want to attack me every time I go anywhere near them.’

‘That sounds a lot like me and Ros.’

‘But the only way is up right?’ Darla touched the wooden counter three times so as not to jinx things.

As usual Darla was tired when she pulled up outside The Brambles. Early starts at the cleaning job and late nights at the cocktail bar weren’t the ideal combination but it was all work and slowly the debts were going down. She reminded herself it wouldn’t be like this forever as she let herself in. She definitely felt different now, and knowing she was staying put for the next few months made things feel less manic. She planned to ask the agency if she could change a few things around seeing as poor Horace wouldn’t be coming home and that whoever did own it would want it looking its best if they were planning on selling.

She went through to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. While that was boiling she went to check outside on the hay delivery so that she could feed the goats something they were actually meant to be eating before she turned in for the night.

She opened the back door and almost walked into a wall of hay. ‘What the heck?’

Darla stepped back, got out her phone and put it on torch. There must have been a dozen bales of hay stacked three high in the back garden. She’d not been expecting that. Was Lee having a laugh with her? That was not a small amount of hay – it was more like a year’s supply! Although she had to admit the goats did seem to have big appetites despite their size.

With a yawn she got a bag from the kitchen, tugged enough hay from one of the bales to fill the bag and went to feed the goats. They were excited and began chomping on the hay. One of them also tried to eat the bag but Darla was getting wise to their antics and she managed to snatch it out of reach just in time.

Chapter Thirteen

Ros was surprised by Cameron being proactive in making contact and wanting to arrange for them to meet up Saturday afternoon. She was less impressed when he said the flip chart would not be involved and that he felt it was a third wheel in their relationship. What exactly his plan was had been unclear but he had pitched it as a live learning session to help them communicate better and be more relaxed in each other’s company. She’d immediately done some googling and come across some very unsavoury things. He had clarified, upon request, that they would not need to remove any clothing, which had made her feel a little calmer.

Cameron buzzed the entry bell early on Saturday afternoon and she came down to greet him with Gazza almost tripping her up in his haste to get to Cameron first. It wasn’t as warm as it had been and they both wore jackets to keep off the sea air chill.

‘Hiya,’ said Cameron, hesitating before he kissed her cheek. She had prepared herself for the encounter and didn’t noticeably flinch although it still gave her an odd sensation. ‘Definitely looking less repelled by me,’ he said. ‘I’ll take that as a win.’