A few minutes later Elliott returned with a bale of straw on his shoulder. ‘Mind out,’ he said as he plonked it over the mesh. ‘I’ve had an idea.’ Darla waited while Elliott brought in more bales and built up a wall around Darla.
‘I used to love making forts when I was a kid,’ she said, as he placed another bale in place.
‘Me too. Hours of fun. But we’re not playing forts today. Right, here’s the plan. I’ll pass you a lamb to feed in there so the others can’t get to you and that one can’t escape until it’s fed.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Darla, impressed with the solution.
Elliott grinned. He went into the neighbouring pen, picked up two lambs and came back. He then climbed over the bales and plonked himself down next to Darla. They were now sitting thigh to thigh in a small straw fort. The warmth against her leg was reassuring. ‘Pick your lamb,’ he said.
She went for the smallest in the hope it was less vigorous with the sucking than the one under his other arm. She handed him a bottle and he swapped her for the lamb. One on one it was a lot easier and as the others couldn’t see what was happening their bleating had reduced. ‘Hold the bottle a little higher, so they don’t take on too much air. There you go. Good job,’ he said with a smile and she felt like she was finally being useful.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ros usually liked Sundays but the thought of her mother still being at her dad’s made her feel tense. The fact that Cameron was going with her this time was both good and bad. She was pleased to have his support, even though she knew she was paying for it. But she feared their façade may not withstand her mother’s scrutiny. Ros hadn’t slept much, desperately thinking through all possible scenarios and even more desperately looking for ways to mitigate them. The problem with that was that the scenarios she was able to conjure up appeared infinite and none of them good.
The other issue was that Ros really didn’t know her mother at all, so trying to predict how she would react to Cameron was almost impossible. Would she even care that he’d moved in with Ros only a few months into a relationship? She had no idea because the bottom line was her mother was a stranger to her. How could she not be, having walked out on Ros when she was seven years old? Ros huffed into her healthy muesli mix that Cameron had made for them both.
‘Let me guess,’ he said, pointing a loaded spoon at her across the table. ‘You’re worrying about your mum?’
‘Very astute.’
He shrugged one shoulder. ‘I think you’re overthinking it. Barry was cool about me moving in. And when your mum gets to know me she’ll love me too.’ He beamed a smile at her.
‘I admire your optimism but I don’t think it will be that easy this time. And whilst she is my mother, it feels odd to call someone I feel I barely know “Mum”.’
‘Then just call her Amanda. Can I offer some advice?’
‘Of course.’
There was more spoon waving. ‘Don’t let her wind you up. Or at least don’t let it show.’
‘Again very easy to say but—’
‘Yeah, I know. Look at it this way. All of this was for Barry, not your mum. If she disapproves, so what? Making Barry feel that you won’t be alone after his demise is all that matters. It’s all about Barry’s peace of mind and that’s still what we’re focused on. Okay?’
‘I guess you’re right. I wish I knew how long she was planning on staying around for.’
‘Probably until . . . you know,’ said Cameron, finally eating the muesli on his spoon.
It made her realise that Cameron would be the same. ‘I suppose that’s the end point to our arrangement. Well, it actually is the end point because we wrote it into the contract.’ Ros concentrated on her cereal bowl. The weeks were disappearing, which meant time with her father was too.
Cameron put down his spoon. ‘I’ve been thinking about that and I’m here for you as long as you need me, and before you say anything about money you don’t need to pay me anything more. You’ve been brilliant about me moving in here and picking up the food bills and stuff. And anyway, I’ve grown fond of Barry. I feel I owe it to him to make sure that you really are okay. So I’m here for the funeral and for as long as you need a friend.’ He fixed her with sincere eyes. ‘I mean it.’
‘I know you do and it’s very kind of you. Thank you,’ she said.
How come something so lovely made her feel so sad?
For once Ros was pleased to be greeted at the door by Gazza. Although he bypassed her quite quickly in favour of Cameron. ‘Hello,’ she called tentatively into the hallway.
‘Hello, come in. I’m in the kitchen,’ called Barry.
Ros was surprised to see her father on his feet whisking something. ‘You’re at the Yorkshires early.’
‘I had a few eggs that needed eating so I thought I’d made a bread and butter pudding.’
‘Top idea,’ said Cameron, greeting Barry warmly.
‘You probably should be sitting down,’ said Ros. She’d not seen him this active for a while.
‘I’m fine. While I’m feeling good I figure I should get on with things.’
‘Good approach,’ said Cameron. ‘But you’ll still be doing your Yorkshire puds right?’ He seemed to freeze while he awaited Barry’s response.
‘Of course.’
‘Phew. That’s a relief.’
‘Where’s Amanda?’ asked Ros.
Barry stopped whisking. ‘Your mum popped out for a coffee maker. She’s not keen on instant.’
‘She’s making herself at home then.’ There was dis-comfort in her words.
‘She’s just trying to help, Ros. You don’t need to be so wary of her.’
‘I’ll get the potatoes started,’ she said.
‘Come on. Let me finish preparing the bread and butter pudding and then we can have a coffee and a chat like always.’
