The Way to a Woman's Heart (6 page)

Poll and Ella nodded and, with George and the lorries following, made their way through the house.

‘I don’t want to be non-pc here,’ Ella whispered as they reached the front door, ‘but do you think Roy’s, well, OK? I mean, it all seems a bit odd. Him being the one staying somewhere while Ash slept rough, and not helping with the move, the special diet, and now not getting out of the car – you don’t think he’s, um, sort of well, disabled in some way, do you?’

Poll shook her head. ‘Lord knows. I hope not because I haven’t fitted ramps or anything and I would have if I’d known. But Ash didn’t say anything about it at our previous meetings, and my solicitor certainly didn’t mention anything in his searches.’

Ella peered at Poll. ‘These legal searches and reports – how closely did you read them?’

Poll shrugged. ‘Well, I didn’t read
every
word, naturally – I mean, once the solicitor had assured me that the criminal records checks were all clear, and I’d skimmed through the basics…’

‘You gave up?’

‘Well, yes. There were dozens of pages of the stuff. But Roy was OK. The solicitor said so, in fact, he laughed when he said it, so I knew I’d got nothing to worry about. And Roy
works
shinning up and down those massive pylons, doesn’t he? He can’t be, um, disabled or ill in any way, can he? Maybe he’s just shy?’

‘And maybe he’s just slightly ashamed of being a hell’s angel or something equally antisocial?’ Ella said as they clattered down the steps towards Ash’s estate car. ‘And maybe the solicitor has a warped sense of humour. And maybe the special diet is bats and fresh blood and – Jesus Christ!’

‘What?’ Poll stopped walking. ‘What’s the matter?’

Ella jabbed a finger at the car. ‘Works on pylons my eye! Dear God, Poll – I’m not surprised the solicitor laughed. Why the hell didn’t you read those legal reports?’

Poll frowned. ‘Why? What’s wrong with him? Oh, poor
Roy. Is he badly incapacitated? Awfully disfigured? Doesn’t he work on pylons, then?’

‘No, Poll. Roy definitely doesn’t work on pylons. In fact, Roy doesn’t work anywhere at all. Roy’s a bloody
python
.’

Recoiling mesmerised, neither of them spoke. Oblivious to their stunned silence, George was standing on tiptoe, excitedly peering into the car, making cooing noises.

‘Poll?’ Ella whispered. ‘Breathe. Say something.’

Poll, still staring at Roy, grabbed a protesting George to safety and cleared her throat. ‘Right – yes, OK – what? Such as?’

Ella swallowed. ‘Anything. Anything at all that might be reassuring. Anything that won’t make me more shivery than I already am.’

‘Are you frightened?’

‘Frightened? Of… him… it… Roy? Yep, I think I am. Aren’t you?’

‘A little disturbed, yes. He’s come as quite a shock. OK, er, so, let’s be practical… I’m a vegetarian, so what do pythons eat?’

‘Cats, dogs, chickens and small boys?’ Ella hazarded, her
eyes transfixed on the mass of softly undulating coils crammed in the small tank on the back seat of Ash’s car. ‘Lord knows, but you can bet your life it won’t be Quorn or tofu.’

‘Oh, God.’ Poll swallowed, anchoring George firmly to her side. ‘And whatever it is, Ash has just put it in the freezer.’

‘Look on the bright side, then, at least it must be dead.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Are you a snake-o-phobe?’

‘Ophidiophobic?’ Poll said faintly. ‘No idea. Are you?’

‘I didn’t think I was, but I think I might be now.’

Ella, feeling involuntary shivers prickle her skin despite the searing heat, stared at the python. The python slowly raised its head and stared back. Then, clearly bored, it gave a sort of shrug and subsided into its coils.

‘It’s… he’s… Roy’s actually quite pretty,’ Ella said, rubbing her arms and wishing the goosebumps would subside. ‘He’s got lovely markings – like a big tabby cat – and he’s got very, um, kind eyes.’

Poll cleared her throat again. ‘Yes, I suppose he has. And I know he has to be marked like that for camouflage, but don’t you think he’d be slightly less intimidating if he were turquoise or pale pink? With sequins?’

Ella frowned. ‘Er, no.’

Poll shrugged. ‘Oh, is it just me, then? Am I the only one who always visualises spiders in pastel shades to be able to cope with them? If you think of them as lilac and lemon and rose and sky-blue stars scuttling around it makes them a lot less scary.’

‘Yeah, OK, I’ll take your word for that.’ Ella stared doubtfully at Poll. ‘But Roy isn’t a spider, pastel or otherwise, neither is he turquoise with sequins. He’s a huge brownish python – and we’ve got to live with it, er, him.’

‘I know. Oh dear, will it be safe to be sharing the house with him?’

‘I really don’t see what else you can do, having invited Ash and… him… Roy – weird name for a snake – to make their homes here. Obviously Roy being a reptile was the reason for them being chucked out of their last place and, as you’ve rescued them from that, you can’t do the same thing, can you?’

‘No,’ Poll sighed. ‘I can’t.’

‘And anyway, he’ll be living in a sort of python secure unit, won’t he? It’s not like he’ll be slithering up and downstairs for breakfast, or wanting to share the sofa to watch telly or anything, is it?’

‘Don’t!’ Poll groaned. ‘I told you I always got things wrong. I could have sworn he said
pylon
. I really should have listened more carefully and, yes, OK, read the solicitor’s reports. How big is it, do you think?’

‘About three miles,’ Ella said with a shudder.

‘Slightly under six feet, actually.’ Ash Lawrence leaped nimbly down the stone steps. ‘He’s just a baby. And he’s a ball python, not a Burmese or a Royal, so he won’t get much bigger. Isn’t he fabulous?’

Poll and Ella nodded doubtfully. George clapped his hands.

‘Would you like to stroke him?’ Ash opened the car’s door.

Poll and Ella squeaked, shook their heads in synchrony and retreated. George clapped his hands even more and rushed forwards. Poll grabbed at him again.

‘It’s fine,’ Ash said soothingly. ‘Roy doesn’t bite – he’s not venomous. He’s a constrictor.’

‘Thank goodness for that,’ Ella said faintly. ‘That means we only have to worry about being squeezed to death.’

Ash chuckled. ‘Roy’s very well behaved and only squeezes when he’s hungry or frightened. And he’s currently neither of those. He’s been well fed this morning. He won’t need another meal for a week or so.’

‘Um, good,’ Poll croaked. ‘And actually, I’ve just said to Ella that I’m a vegetarian, so, about the feeding… ?’

‘Small rodents.’

‘No!’

‘Sorry, yes, but pre-packed and pre-frozen. Nothing cute and furry and scampering.’

Ella frowned. ‘Not now, maybe, but once upon a time…’

Ash sighed. ‘I know, but I can’t change nature, can I? Much as I’d love to throw him a handful of pine nuts and a small spinach quiche, it isn’t going to happen. Poor Roy – he’s had such a bad time.’

‘Has he?’ Poll’s eyes immediately softened. ‘Oh, dear.’

‘He’d been abandoned by someone who thought having a python was cool, then discovered it wasn’t. Then he had a short stint as a nightclub dancer’s accessory, which was awful for him. So, I took him on and nursed him back to health – but my employer had a no pets rule, and I got found out, and, well, you know the rest. Then you were so wonderfully
kind and unprejudiced about reptiles, and amazingly generous with your offer of a new home, and here we are.’

‘And you’re very welcome,’ Poll said stoutly. ‘Both of you.’

Ella chuckled to herself.

‘But,’ Poll said quickly, ‘I really must be sure that he… Roy… won’t escape or want to eat George or the cats or dogs or the chickens. You hear such awful things, don’t you?’

‘I solemnly promise you,’ Ash said, straight-faced, ‘that no one, or nothing, is at risk. Believe me, I wouldn’t have imposed on your generosity if I knew differently. Roy has a securely locked vivarium, and is more than happy with his, um, frozen ready meals. Even if he escaped – which he won’t – he’d only be looking for company and somewhere warm to sleep, not foraging for food.’

‘OK.’ Poll heaved a sigh of relief. ‘That’s absolutely fine then – I think.’

Ash leaned into the car and opened the travelling tank. ‘Come and stroke him.’

Ella dragged her eyes away from the tight T-shirt and jeans stretched over a fabulous body.

‘Stop drooling,’ Poll hissed. ‘You’re attached and, remember, he’s gay.’

‘Actually,’ Ella hissed back, ‘he might not be, because you only thought he was gay because you thought Roy was the Berkshire Wichita Lineman. Now we know Roy is – well – reptilian, it might mean that Ash is superbly heterosexual, mightn’t it?’

‘Well,’ Poll said doubtfully, ‘since you put it like that, he
might
be, I suppose.’

Ella beamed. Every cloud and all that. Not that she was going to think about Ash in
that
way, of course – she had more than enough on her plate with Mark – but it was nice to
know.

Ash now had most of Roy looped over his arms. ‘Come and say hi. He’s really friendly – lazy and laid-back. And I must get him upstairs into his permanent home fairly quickly. This little box is only for transport and whatever happens he mustn’t get cold – even today’s heat would feel Siberian to Roy. Oh, Joe and I have already set up his tank in my room –’ he glanced over his shoulder at Poll as George reached forwards eagerly ‘– and I know I’ll have to sort out extra payments for the electricity. There!’ He grinned down at George. ‘He’s smiling. He likes you.’

George stroked Roy’s blunt-nosed head gently and cooed happily. Despite Ash’s earlier assurances, Poll and Ella still stared anxiously.

‘Come on.’ Ash held the armful of python towards Ella. ‘Snakes get a rotten press. They aren’t cold and slimy. Roy’s warm and smooth and totally adorable.’

Pretty much like his owner then, Ella thought, stretching out a tentative and slightly trembling hand and touching Roy’s perfectly patterned velvety skin.

She stopped, surprised. ‘Oh… he’s nothing like I thought he’d be, and I can feel him breathing. Oh, bless him. He’s lovely.’

Ella and Ash shared a proud-parent eye-meet moment. Ella, suddenly feeling very warm, looked away first.

Poll, clearly not wanting to be outdone, also ran a reluctant hand briefly over Roy’s beautifully marked skin, then smiled at her own bravery. ‘Oh, yes, he’s cute. Not cold or scary at all. There. Now we’re all friends. So, would you like to pop him upstairs into his new quarters? And come and join us for some late lunch in the garden?’

‘That sounds wonderful,’ Ash said, hoisting Roy round his neck and looking at Ella. ‘Would you mind just taking his tail end so that it doesn’t knock against anything as we go upstairs? Snakes bruise very easily. Look, just hold out your hands and take the weight – he’s quite relaxed. Thanks, that’s great.’

Ella, carefully carrying several feet of surprisingly heavy python, felt ridiculously proud of herself. And with Poll opening doors and George dodging between them stroking whichever bits of Roy came to hand, they made their way up to Hideaway Farm’s second floor.

Ella couldn’t help thinking as she climbed the stairs that life had taken a pretty crazy turn. Somewhere around that overgrown signpost her old normal life had ended and this new bizarre existence had started. This morning she’d been in London, and it could have been decades ago.

Now, merely hours later, she was in a remote Berkshire farmhouse with ditzy Poll, a very cute small boy who’d already stolen her heart, an even cuter homeless maybe-gay ex-chef, and carrying the tail end of a python.

Ah well, she’d told Mark she’d wanted a complete life change, hadn’t she?

They’d just reached Ash’s room when the phone rang noisily in the hall below.

‘Sorry.’ Poll pulled a face. ‘I’ll have to go and answer it. It might be important. It might be the plumber – or maybe even Billy or Trixie letting me know when they’re arriving.’

‘Billy and Trixie?’ Ella asked.

Poll shrugged. ‘Er, yes. I’ll tell you about them later. Sorry, I’ve got to get the phone.’

Ash hoisted Roy up gently. ‘Won’t they ring on your mobile if you don’t answer the landline?’