‘Yes.’
‘Why don’t you just pick them up?’
I looked up at him. The only chicken I’d ever picked up was pre roasted and in a wrapper from Waitrose.
‘They might flap a bit at first but they’ll settle as soon as you’ve got them and they’re quite cosy to cuddle. Nice gentle breed you’ve got there.’
Never in my life had I imagined that I would ever be talking about how cuddly any chickens were, let alone my own!
Jesse sensed my hesitation. ‘One step at a time though, maybe.’
‘Yes, I think so. I’d better get back to this… whatever I’m supposed to do with it.’
‘Need some help?’
‘That’s very kind but I’m sure between Google and YouTube, I’ll work it out.’
He nodded.
‘Thanks, though.’
‘No problem. Glad they’re growing on you. I’ll see you half twelve Sunday.’
With that, Jesse gave a nod and then strode across the narrow main road of the village to where his pick-up was parked. As he went to get in, a lithe-looking woman stepped out from a nearby shop and called his name. He turned and I saw the woman’s face light up with a huge smile as she walked towards him, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. I guess she was more his type.
He was right about the chickens. They were growing on me. Having done some hasty research online, I was now feeling rather guilty about the grubby state of the coop I’d inherited. By the looks of things, I’d also need to investigate getting the run repaired too as the chickens still had a tendency to be found in various parts of the farm that they shouldn’t be and the last thing I wanted was for a fox to get them.
I flashed the locks on my car and slid behind the wheel onto the soft leather just as large droplets of rain began to gather pace on the windscreen. Great. Did it ever do anything but bloody rain around here? As soon as I got home, I was ringing someone to sort out the windows. If I could at least weatherproof my house, that would be a start.
4
‘Oh! That wasn’t exactly what I thought you’d be putting in.’ I looked at the windows now lined up against the wall. They were nothing like original Victorian-style sash windows and, although I was a total newbie at this, even I knew they were going to look hideous.
‘You said you wanted it done quickly. These are the ones we’ve got in stock that fit the measurements. You didn’t say anything about having fancy ones put in.’ The man shoved his hands in his pockets and gave me a shrug. ‘It’s these or nothing.’
I looked out at the once more darkening sky. Every other supplier I’d rung couldn’t do anything for weeks yet, so I’d ended up going with this company that I’d finally found buried several pages in while trawling the web. A voice in my head that sounded remarkably like my sexy neighbour’s told me this might not have been such a great idea.
‘What’s the verdict, love?’ He sounded tetchy now. ‘If you don’t want them, plenty of others will and hanging around here doesn’t pay my bill, if you know what I mean.’
Definitely not such a great idea. But what could I do now? They were here. They had new windows and I had completely rotten ones. How bad could it be? At least when I went to bed tonight, I’d be warmer.
It turned out I wasn’t warmer. I could hear the wind whooshing through gaps between the building and the window frame. Not to mention it looked hideous. The existing windows had been ropey but were beautiful period sash ones, perfect for my romantic vision. Now my bedroom had one basic, white uPVC one that, weirdly, only opened a couple of inches. The fitter had said that was normal until it bedded in. He’d seemed to know what he was doing so I’d taken his word for it. In the end, he’d had to leave the other one as, once again, the heavens had opened and trying to fit any more had been impossible. I’d suggested paying for them all together but the man had insisted he be paid for the work he’d done and that he’d arrange with me to come back when the weather was more conducive. He and his mate were both big blokes and, unlike Jesse, who never appeared to use his size as a threat, there was something about these two I hadn’t felt comfortable with. In truth, I’d been regretting the whole thing. I’d paid them for the bedroom window in cash as requested, locked the door and waited until the van was out of sight to let out the breath I hadn’t even realised I’d been holding.
And now, here I was, under a mountain of blankets, listening to the wind howling through one rotten window and one new but badly fitted one. I’d spent the last couple of hours on my laptop trying to find suitable house insurance, something that was proving difficult given the current insecure state of my house. But eventually I’d given in to the weather and snuggled down in the bed, trying to get warm. At least the old window had kept out the worst of the rain but I could hear the tap tap tap of raindrops on the floorboards under the newly fitted one. I’d put a bucket down earlier but now I could hear a new spot letting in the weather. Perfect! If Jesse knew, I was sure he’d be laughing his arse off and telling me he’d told me so. Which he had.
A loud crack outside made me squeak in shock. Another was emitted as the sound was followed immediately by a crash. Was that a tree? The wind was hammering into the farmhouse, thumping against it like a solid force. Branches from another tree scraped and tapped at the glass, reminding me of a ghostly Cathy fromWuthering Heights, begging to be let in. I pulled the blanket over my head. Was the place actually haunted? It was old enough to be. People used to die at home in the Victorian era when the house was built, didn’t they? Oh God, was I trying to sleep in a room where someone, or more than one person, had taken their last, rattling breath?
I shoved the blanket back sharply. This was ridiculous. I didn’t even believe in ghosts! It was just a bit of weather and I was working myself up into a frenzy about it because I was already running on Stress Level Defcon 1 – at least! I flipped the switch for the bedside lamp and pushed myself up the bed. Leaning over, I could see the puddle forming under the nearest edge of the window while the other side was still dripping steadily into the bucket. And then the thunder started.
‘Great.’ I sighed and swung my legs out of the bed. I was out of buckets, having only found one, but I could mop up the mess and then put another towel down to soak up the leak until I could get hold of the fitters again in the morning to redo the appalling job. The thought of them coming back didn’t exactly warm the cockles of my heart. Maybe I could ask Julie if she’d be able to take a bit of time off from the café to be here too, just so that I wasn’t alone. No, that was ridiculous. I’d done everything on my own for decades. I wasn’t about to start relying on others now. Apparently my independence was something that had appealed to Adrian. Or so he’d said. I guess it had left him free to do his own thing. Like get cosy with heiresses.
‘Right!’ I slapped my thighs and stood up. As I took my second step, an enormous clap of thunder rolled around the building, shaking it, and me, to its core. The lights flashed then everything went dark as a cave. That was another thing, along with the assorted smells, none of the many property programmes mentioned about moving to the countryside. It was dark. I mean, properly dark by 4p.m. Having always lived in the city and surrounded by streetlights, this was still taking some getting used to.
Outside, another deafening crack was followed by a second loud crash, at the same time as lightning lit up the room like a flare. The thunder followed immediately, competing with the wind as each tried to drown the other out. The wind slammed into the house once more and blew the new window from its poor fixings. the frame catching me on the temple as it fell to the ground, taking me and a glass side table with it. As it landed, glass sprayed everywhere, the shards lit up like a glass fountain by the next flash of lightning.
I lay where I was, stars tumbling in front of my eyes in the pitch black, my head already beginning to thump. Another sharp crack outside brought me back to the present. I made to push myself up and promptly put my hand on some glass.
‘Shit!’ Snatching it back, I stayed where I was, waiting for the next bolt of lightning to illuminate the area so that I could at least get to my phone and use that as a torch. As the next flash lit the room, I groggily stepped back and reached over the bed to grab my phone, almost overbalancing as I did so. Steadying myself on the bed, I switched the torch on, revealing a blood-red handprint on my ridiculously expensive cashmere blanket.
