Kitty's Countryside Dream (4 page)

L
ooking down at my overalls
, I realised there wasn't a cat in hell's chance I carried this look off well. I looked dated and frumpy and resembled nothing more than a sack of spuds – unlike Jeannie who looked like she was modelling the new farmer attire from Gucci. Paddy the rooster was now perched back on the bale after his morning snack and was still following my every move with his watchful eyes. I wasn't sure why, but I got the impression he didn't like me much, and I wasn't sure I liked him after he'd demolished my lunch in record time.

I spotted Tom and Jeannie waiting for me outside the office. Tom was holding a mug of steaming tea.

They peered at me. ‘That's more like it – a chicken farmer in the making,' Tom said, laughing.

Clomping towards them in my wellington boots, I grabbed the mug of tea off Tom and plonked my sorry backside down the bench.

‘Glad to see it's not that fruity tea and it's not bad, it's actually a decent cuppa,' I said after taking a sip.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a small white van being driven by a woman up the tarmac drive towards us.

‘Who's this?'

‘Oh no, is it that time already?' Tom said, checking his watch. ‘Doesn't time fly when you're having fun or, rather, making fun of the new recruit.'

The van pulled up and parked right by where we were sitting. Jumping out and slamming the door, the driver was standing in front of us.

‘Good morning, Lucinda, how are you today?'

‘Busy, busy, busy, four wedding cakes and what seems like a thousand cupcakes to bake by close of play on Friday. If it's this busy in winter, I'll need to expand my team by summer. I'm run off my feet.'

I recognised Lucinda; she was the lady who had served me in the baker's yesterday, the one who gave me the delicious chocolate flapjack. That flapjack was to die for; even Paddy the rooster could vouch for that.

Lucinda was of average height, not too small and not too tall. Her face was pretty and her blonde hair sported the tightest corkscrew curls I had ever set eyes on. Her fringe was pinned back by a diamanté love-heart clip, which added a touch of glamour. Her make-up was au natural – well, maybe just the hint of black mascara to accentuate her lashes – and I guessed she was in her early-thirties.

‘Lucinda, let me introduce you to Kitty.' Tom smiled, turning towards me. ‘Kitty is the new boss, started today.'

‘Hello, yes, I recognise you; you came into the shop yesterday. How's the first morning going?'

‘So far so good, I think.'

‘Lucinda bought the cake shop on the high street a couple of years ago; everything is home-made in there, mouth-watering and delightfully delicious. She uses our eggs – the best free-range eggs in Staffordshire,' Tom continued.

‘Wow, everything is home-made? You must never sleep.'

‘Yep, everything is baked or prepared by me. Every day I'm up at the crack of dawn, all my ovens switched on by 5 a.m. and the first pastries in by 5.20,' she said proudly.

‘That's a bit like someone else we know, up at the crack of dawn,' joked Tom, teasing me again. ‘They also have a sandwich delivery service – if we remember to ring our lunch orders through by 11.30, the lovely Lucinda will send up one of her assistants with our food. If we forget, we starve,' he continued.

‘Where are you staying?' Lucinda enquired.

‘I've moved into a little flat just up the road from the baker's.'

‘Mother Goose's old place?'

‘I believe that's the one,' I said, remembering Tom saying that had been my grandmother's pet name.

‘Right, less of this gassing, let's go and get your order, Lucinda, and you pair, meet me in barn two in five minutes.'

Tom had interrupted our conversation quite abruptly and seemed keen to move Lucinda on, or was it just my imagination? I suppose he wanted to get some work underway today and more than likely we had wasted enough time.

Tom and Lucinda marched off up the yard and disappeared around the corner, leaving Jeannie and I to rinse the mugs and make our way to barn two, wherever that may be.

‘This way.'

‘I'm following. What delights will I find in barn two?'

‘Barn two is the hub of the deliveries across the county. When Tom says you're on the early shift that's what we call bright and early – a 5 a.m. start. We take turns, usually a week about. This week it's my week. It's a little scary travelling up the lane in the pitch black of the early morning but once you're the other side of the tarmac drive, Tom has the lights switched on in the yard and there's plenty of light that shines from Brambleberry Cottage. It reminds me of a floodlit football pitch.'

‘Is that Tom's place then, Brambleberry Cottage?'

‘Yes, that's where he lives.'

‘Very handy for work,' I replied.

‘Yes, very handy. Here we are – barn two.'

Swinging open the rusty old ramshackle barn door, I stood staring in amazement. I had never seen so many eggs; there were trays and trays stacked up. Not just brown eggs but blue, white, speckled and light brown, an array of magnificent colours. Each table not only contained different coloured eggs but they were also sorted into two piles of medium and large.

‘Egg production varies from breed to breed, or flavour to flavour in your case.' She winked. ‘All the chickens living on the farm are free-range and each field is divided into sections. We tend to keep the birds that can offer a more prolific return; Rhode Island Red, New Hampshire Red and the Sussex are all breeds that are fantastic, reliable layers.'

My face must have said it all; Jeannie was talking a completely different language to me.

‘Don't look so worried – you'll soon get the hang of it all. Each morning we collect the eggs from the coops. We work a section at a time, taking care not to mix up the eggs. We collect the eggs in those wire baskets hanging up over there,' she said, pointing to the far end of the barn, where there were numerous large blue wire baskets hanging from the wall. ‘Once your section has been collected, you bring those eggs back here and place them on the correct table. So, for example, if you've collected the eggs from the Rhode Island Reds, take the eggs over to this table and separate them into medium and large and place them on the trays, labelling them with today's date. Then move onto the next section and so on.'

‘Gosh, it's like a military operation. I have no idea what a Rhode Island thingy even looks like, except it will have a beak and cluck. You've learnt your stuff quickly, Jeannie,' I joked.

‘I've got a brother and we were brought up on a farm, so it's in my blood. At the age of three I bonded with my first pet chicken, Delilah. She clucked around after me all day long. I'm an outdoors kind of a girl; I'd rather be getting my hands mucky than working in a stifling office shuffling paper with the suits.'

‘How are you pair getting on?' Tom asked, popping his head round the door.

‘Yes, all OK, we're just chatting about the early-morning starts and the weekly rota for egg collection.'

‘Did you mention whoever is on the early-morning shift finishes their day at 3 p.m. and the rest of us take care of the locking up of chickens in their houses at night?'

‘Chickens have houses?' I began to chuckle, imagining all of the chickens lying down in their beds and switching off their lights.

‘Yes, the two most basic requirements for our birds is space and shelter. They need to roost at night, both for their own comfort, away from the wind and rain, and to protect them from predators, which is usually the fox.

‘Anyway, after lunch I'll give you a full tour of the farm, but for now I think we can safely declare it's lunchtime.'

‘Yay, I'm famished,' shouted Jeannie.

‘Here, Kit, catch.'

Looking up, I saw some foil-wrapped sandwiches flying through the air in my direction, thrown by Tom.

‘I mentioned to Lucinda your unfortunate introduction to Paddy and your lack of lunch and she's very kindly given you her sandwich. She'll grab something from the bakery when she finishes her rounds.'

‘Oh, how very kind and thoughtful, thank you very much,' I said, relieved, hearing my stomach gurgle with hunger.

‘OK, I'm off back to the cottage. I'll see you on the bench in an hour.' And with that he strode away and was gone.

Unfolding the foil from my sandwiches, I could feel Jeannie's eyes on me.

‘What?' I smiled.

‘Cock-a-hoop, nicknames already, Kit, and it's only the first morning. Something tells me you pair are going to get on just fine,' Jeannie joked.

‘Shush, stop teasing.' I smiled but could feel myself blushing. I'd immediately noticed that Tom had shortened my name to Kit, and to be honest, I think I quite liked it.

S
oon after we
finished our lunch, the sky began to darken and within no time at all the heavens opened. It began to bucket down with heavy rainfall. Sheltering under the jutted-out roof of the office, Jeannie and I stood with our backs to the wall, trying to shield ourselves from the rain while we waited for Tom to reappear after lunch.

‘Those ballet shoes would have been ruined in no time in this weather.'

‘How did you know my shoe size for the wellington boots?' I asked, intrigued.

‘That would be a very good guess on my part. Many moons ago I worked a Saturday job in the local shoe shop. I could spot a pair of size-six feet anywhere – oh and the fact you looked about the same size as me, so I brought you a pair from home.' She grinned.

We heard the door of the cottage slam and saw Tom hurrying over towards us. Pulling his raincoat over his head, he was trying to keep the drenching to a minimum whilst splashing through the puddles that had quickly appeared on the ground.

‘OK, which one of you pair has been singing this lunchtime?'

‘Ha ha, not me, I'm tone-deaf and I wouldn't subject anyone to my appalling voice, not even myself,' I replied.

‘Must be you then, Jeannie,' he said, laughing.

Just at that moment, we saw a flash of lightning strike across the dense black clouds, and we all froze to the spot. A boom rolled out across the valley and the trees began to sway in the strengthening gust. The rain became even heavier, sounding like bullets firing onto the roofs of the barns. Another jagged bolt of white split across the sky again; this time the clap of thunder was only a few seconds behind.

‘Jeannie, can you return to barn two and start preparing the egg orders that are due for delivery in the morning and remember to take the trays from the back. The orders for tomorrow are pinned on the main board in the office. Also, separate any eggs that are over three days old, pile them up and I can take them to market.'

‘No problem.' Jeannie was off straightaway, making a run for barn two.

‘You come with me, Kit.'

There he was calling me Kit again. My heart began to flutter and my cheeks flushed instantly. Hoping it wasn't obvious, I enquired what our mission was for this afternoon.

‘Mission Conker.'

‘Mission Conker, what does that entail?'

‘We're going to run in the rain and rescue Conker from the field. He's aging fast now, and even though he's a hardy Shetland, I removed his rug yesterday, and I don't like the thought of him enduring these weather conditions. He'll be getting drenched in this downpour. We can stable him until the storm passes over. Are you ready to make a run for it?' Tom asked.

‘Ready as I'll ever be.'

Tom took off up the yard but not before grabbing my hand, his firm grip pulling my flailing legs behind him. Halfway up the path it separated into two. I could make out a black shadow sheltering under the skeleton-like branches of an old oak tree in the field to the right of the path.

The huge drops of water were attacking my body and my clothes were sodden. Focussing on the stable ahead, my wellingtons pounded heavily across the ground, causing the mud to splash up the legs of my overalls. Almost instantly the torrential rain turned the ground to mud, making it slippery, but Tom kept a strong hold of my hand to stop me from sliding.

Finally arriving at the wooden stable, Tom let go of my hand and unbolted the door. Hanging from the hooks inside the stable were all types of pony paraphernalia: a head collar, reins and a saddle. He grabbed the head collar just as another clap of thunder sounded. I squealed, clutching Tom in panic. He smiled down at me, holding my gaze for a split second. All of a sudden I felt very coy, until I looked away.

‘Gosh, that was a loud clatter. It'll pass shortly,' Tom said and he headed off straightaway.

I watched Tom stride into the field and lead Conker out of the storm; they began trotting towards me into the warm stable.

‘Conker, meet Kitty. Kitty, meet Conker,' Tom said as he swept his wet fringe out of his eyes. ‘He'll be safe in here now until the storm passes over. There are blue skies creeping through over there.'

The wet Shetland nuzzled my hand before turning his attention to the hay hanging from the net.

The rain was slowing down and the sun was definitely trying to creep through. I was feeling very unattractive. My hair was limp, my clothes were soaking and this was the first time I had ever had the unfortunate pleasure of wringing-wet feet squelching around inside wellington boots.

Out of the blue Tom slung his arm around my shoulder. ‘Well this is an unsuccessful first day. Let's make our way back to the office and grab a hot drink. We can dry off and then head over to Jeannie to see how she's coping with tomorrow's orders,' Tom suggested, guiding me back towards the office.

When we reached the office, the kettle was already boiling and Jeannie was whirling around on the chair. ‘Tea is nearly ready,' she called as we entered through the door. ‘You pair look a little wet. There are a couple of towels hanging on the back of the door if you need to dry off,' she continued, nodding in the direction of the door.

Placing my boot in the jack, I pulled it off and tipped it upside down.

‘There's enough water in there to fill a small fish tank.'

Jeannie, who was now off the chair pouring us both a mug of tea, smirked.

‘There weren't many orders today and all are completed. The eggs to be taken to market I've put on the wooden table at the back of the barn, labelled up, and I've locked the barn. If it's OK with you pair, it's fast approaching 3 p.m. so I'll be off.'

‘Yes, of course, see you in the morning.'

‘Fabulous, see you then, and I hope you've enjoyed your first day, Kit,' she said, throwing me a wink whilst Tom was spooning sugar into his tea, and with that she disappeared through the office door.

Soaked to the skin, I slipped my arms out of my overalls and tied the sleeves around my waist to stop the trousers from falling down. Underneath I was still wearing my cashmere jumper, a jumper which I was very fond of, and there was no way I was risking hanging it on my peg in the storeroom with Paddy the rooster still strutting around in there.

‘Tom, is it possible I could have an early dart too?'

‘Now you're taking liberties; you've been here two minutes and you're already asking for time off,' he teased.

‘Yes, I know, it's just I'm expecting the removal van to arrive in the next couple of hours. I've left all the furniture in the house I sold, but they're bringing my clothes and personal items.'

‘Yes, of course you can.'

‘Great, thanks.'

‘Dare I ask, have you enjoyed your first day?' Tom enquired.

‘It wasn't what I was expecting – my dreams of running an office empire dashed, my lunch devoured by a rooster, not to mention dancing in the rain, or more like being dragged along by my wellies to keep me from falling.'

Tom started clapping. ‘A huge round of applause for Kitty – she's survived her first day.'

Putting one foot in front of the other, I pretended to hold my make-believe skirt as I bent my knees to curtsy.

‘Aha, but the question is will you be back tomorrow?'

‘Go on then, if I must,' I teased.

‘I'll take that as a complete success then,' Tom said, beaming. ‘You may as well get off. Finish your drink first though. I've just got to sort out the order for market tomorrow and I'll lock up the pens later on.'

‘There seems to be an awful lot of manual work for just three of us,' I mentioned.

‘Usually around March, when springtime is approaching, we have a number of temporary farmhands that come on board for a few months. It's easier if they're on short-term contracts, and it makes the summer months a little easier because that's when egg production is at its maximum.'

I nodded.

‘Tom, on a serious note, and if I'm truly honest, I feel a little overwhelmed by it all. OK, I have inherited this place, but can we keep things the way they are for the near future?'

‘What do you mean?' Tom answered.

‘Would you consider still being the boss and the manager? I'd feel more comfortable until I find my feet.'

‘Of course, Kitty, whenever you're ready – it would be a pleasure. This farm is in my blood and I'm going nowhere fast.' Tom smiled.

‘Thanks, Tom.'

Despite everything that had gone wrong, I'd thoroughly enjoyed the madness of the day. It had made a change from the lonely existence I'd been leading until now. I felt I was going to like this chicken lark.

Finishing my tea, I headed out the door.

‘See you tomorrow.'

Grabbing my bike from underneath the shelter, I swung my leg over the frame and began to pedal down the driveway.

‘The combination to the padlock is 1507,' Tom shouted after me. ‘Please will you lock the gate on your way out. It'll save me wandering down later.'

‘Will do,' I shouted back, waving a hand above my head.

Well, I wouldn't be forgetting that number in a hurry, I thought – that's my birthday, 15 July.