Elliott did as she asked. He handed back the phone over the bales. ‘Did you know there’s rain forecast for tonight?’

‘I did not know that,’ said Darla, unsure as to where to go with this but it was small talk and she felt that was progress for her and Elliott.

He pointed at the bales. ‘They should be under cover. You don’t want them getting wet.’

‘Right. I see.’ Darla looked around. She knew the garage was full.

‘Horace kept the hay in the shed.’

‘It’s got a padlock on it so I figured I wasn’t meant to go in there.’

‘Key should be on the main set. It’ll be smaller than the others.’

Darla pulled the keys out of the back door and sure enough there was a tiny key. ‘Umm, I don’t suppose you’d like to give me a hand?’ She gave him her best smile.

‘Sure,’ said Elliott, picking up the nearest bale and lifting it onto his shoulder.

‘Oh,’ said Darla, who had been expecting them to get one end each of a bale. She scooted around the other bales to get to the shed ahead of him. By the time she had jiggled the key and got the rusty old padlock to open, Elliott had already stacked up four bales outside the shed. Darla had a quick look inside. There was a large, well-worn workbench, some rusting tools and a large pile of wood in all shapes and sizes. When Elliott lumped another bale on the growing pile she decided she had better get to work. She opened the door right up and dragged the top hay bale down and reversed into the shed. Working together they soon had them all inside.

‘How are you getting on with the animals?’ asked Elliott.

‘Good question,’ said Darla. ‘The cockerel, the boy chicken—’

‘I know which one a cockerel is,’ said Elliott. At least he looked amused for once.

‘Sorry, of course you do. Well, he does not like me one little bit. He’s quite aggressive towards me. I’ve noticed him interacting with the hens and he’s fine with them so it’s definitely directed at me. The hens and I get on a treat apart from the occasional peck at my laces. I think maybe they think they’re worms. Now the geese were very vocal but they do seem to be calmer around me. I don’t know if you’d call that getting on but it is an improvement.’ Darla was bewildered by the full-blown smile Elliott now displayed. ‘What?!’

‘I meant were you managing okay. Not, are you best buddies?’

Darla wobbled her head. ‘It’s basically the same thing. We are all creatures and being in balance with each other is an important part of getting on.’ He was looking at her like she was trying to sign him up to a cult. ‘To answer your question – I get who eats what now so we’re good.’

‘I still don’t understand how you got this job if you have zero experience of farm animals.’

‘It was a mistake on the—’

‘Oh, that explains it,’ said Elliott a little too quickly for Darla’s liking. She’d show him how good she was. She just needed a bit of time.

Chapter Seventeen

There wasn’t much of a chance for a chat on a Saturday night at the cocktail bar and even less chance on Easter Saturday – it was heaving. But it did mean the shift went fast and there were quite a few tips, which were always appreciated. Cameron and Darla left together and stepped outside into a downpour.

‘Do you want a lift or have you got your bike?’ asked Darla.

‘My bike has a flat tyre but I didn’t have time to sort it and nobody in the house was willing to give me a lift.’

‘Why’s that?’ asked Darla.

‘I had a go at them. They are driving me nuts. The place is a constant tip; however much tidying and loading and unloading of the dishwasher I do it’s never enough. So I walked to work. The short answer would be: “Yes please, can I have a lift?”’

‘Great, this way,’ said Darla, whipping out a brolly and then realising that if she held it she would keep stabbing Cameron in the chin with it. ‘Here, you can be in charge of this.’ She handed it over. ‘This is brilliant. Now you can tell me all about the barbecue because I’ve not had a chance to hear it from Ros.’ Darla also thought it might be interesting to see if the two perspectives differed. ‘Did it go okay?’

Cameron opened the brolly with a flourish and gallantly kept it mainly over Darla. ‘You know, I thought it went really well.’

‘That’s terrific.’

‘Until the drive home and Ros was super quiet and not engaging.’

‘That sounds fairly normal for Ros, especially if she was tired,’ said Darla.

‘Nah, this was something else. I asked her if she was okay and she said fine and—’

‘Oh hell! What happened? I mean either something kicked off or you did something majorly wrong.’

Cameron seemed baffled. ‘How on earth do you work that out from Ros saying she’s fine?’

‘Dear Cameron, you have so much to learn. This isn’t just Ros; this is most of womankind. Let me tell you with absolute certainty that the woman who says she is “fine” is anything but.’

***

Ros was feeling quite conflicted about Cameron defending her at the work barbecue. On one hand she could appreciate that he had been standing up for her but on the other she could, and always had, look after herself. There had been an awkward silence in the car on the way home, which had been broken only by Cameron asking if she was okay and Ros replying ‘fine’.

Ros opened the door to him on Sunday morning at her dad’s to be met by a bunch of flowers. The bouquet lowered and Cameron’s sheepish face appeared over the top. ‘I think I may need to say sorry although I’m not entirely sure what I did wrong,’ he said, offering her the flowers.

As he tried to come in she shooed him back outside and pulled the door to – to stop Gazza escaping. ‘I appreciate that you were coming to my defence, I really do.’

‘Great, because those women were mean and you were quiet in the car so I thought perhaps I’d pissed you off, but if we’re good . . .’

‘I hadn’t quite finished,’ said Ros. ‘I would say I was a little put out, rather than pissed off. Maybe I didn’t need you to come to my rescue like that. Perhaps I could have handled it myself seeing as I’m an adult.’

‘Okay. And how would you have handled it?’ he asked with a tilt of his head.

‘Well, I would . . .’ Ros replayed the situation in her mind. ‘It probably didn’t need any intervention so—’

‘You would have done nothing?’

‘Possibly.’

Cameron raised an eyebrow.

‘Okay fine,’ said Ros. ‘I wouldn’t have said anything. It’s easier that way. They are not my friends so it doesn’t really matter.’

‘Which means they would have got away with it and would continue to be unkind to you and possibly other people. I think I did the right thing because maybe now they’ll think before they speak. But if I upset you then I’m sorry.’

‘Again, I’m not upset. But another time perhaps you could ask me first?’

‘Sure, thing.’ He offered the flowers again. ‘Friends?’

‘What’s going on here?’ asked Barry, pulling the door fully open. ‘Oh I know what this is. That’s a man in trouble right there,’ he said, pointing at Cameron with a chuckle. ‘What did you do? One too many beers? Forgot something?’