Page 19 of The Only Way Is Up

Justin squatted down in the grass and started to milk Nancy with practised hands, so Tom strolled over to the enclosure where the two remaining pigs were snuffling about in the mud. The rest had all gone to piggy heaven in earlier months, and next week, one of these would be heading the same way. Tom would get some homemade bacon sandwiches and Year 10 would learn how to make sausages.

‘What’s the plan for Nancy?’ Tom asked, watching Justin deftly milk the goat. ‘After you leave in a few months?’

Justin shrugged. ‘She’ll make a lovely goat curry.’

Tom looked horrified. ‘Oh God, really?’

Justin smirked. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. It’s up to you, I guess. Is the school going to keep this project up, or should we just have a farewell party of curried Nancy before I burn everything to the ground?’

Tom’s brow furrowed. ‘Shit, I suppose I’d better give it some thought. I’d like to keep it up, really; the kids love it and it looks good on the website. But I really don’t have time to milk a goat every day.’ He cleared his throat and looked wistfully towards the chimney of Willow Cottage.

‘Have you seen her yet?’ asked Justin knowingly. ‘Since you were a massive bellend over dinner?’

Tom gave a hollow laugh. ‘Yeah. A couple of weeks ago.’ Justin raised his eyebrows; he hadn’t told Justin about his cowardly visit yet. ‘I went over to explain about the whole Tessa thing, but then the tennis player rang so I bottled it and ran.’

‘Is there anything you can’t fuck up?’ Justin said affectionately.

‘Apparently not.’

‘I’ve barely seen her at all, but I s’pose the weather’s been bloody awful. And I think she’s avoiding Stella,’ Justin mused. ‘She goes out for a walk really early then spends all day cooking. She’s pretty much got her own Ocado van.’

‘Right,’ Tom grinned, mildly heartened that he wasn’t the only one she was avoiding.

‘Fuck me,’ said Justin with a grin. ‘You’re properly smitten.’

‘Am not,’ Tom denied hotly. ‘Not like that, anyway. I’m just annoyed at myself for being such an arsehole.’

‘Hmm, can’t argue with that. Are you ready to meet The Mother?’

‘I don’t know. Am I?’

‘I’m not sure you have a choice,’ chuckled Justin. ‘She’s on her way over.’

He gestured behind Tom, who turned to see a woman bumbling across the field, looking charmingly eccentric in several layers of rainbow knitwear and a pair of Hunter wellies. She was darker and stouter than her daughter, and he idly wondered what Daisy’s father had looked like. A Scandinavian love god, maybe.

Stella beamed at Tom and held out her hand. When he took it, she engulfed it with both of her own. ‘You must be the elusive headmaster,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

Tom smiled nervously. ‘From Daisy? Oh dear.’

‘No, from Justin.’ Stella raised an eyebrow. ‘Daisy hasn’t mentioned you.’ Tom blushed and turned away, Justin smirking silently as he funnelled the bucket of goats’ milk into a large thermos flask.

‘What are we doing today?’ Stella asked. ‘Fixing fences? Digging vegetables?’

Justin grinned. ‘I’ve got a special job for you.’ Stella clapped her hands excitedly as Justin screwed the lid on the flask. ‘See those two pigs over there? You get to choose which one lives and which one dies.’

Tom laughed at Stella’s horror.

‘Oh my—’ she gasped.

‘Hello, hello,’ a voice behind them called. It was the Reverend Miriam Mayhew, huffing towards them in a plum-coloured coat, a green kilt and sensible shoes, her face wrapped in a yellow scarf. She looked purposefully at Tom, ignoring Stella and Justin.

‘Sorry to bother,’ Miriam said, looking anything but. ‘How are the pigs?’

‘One of them is fine,’ said Tom, ‘but the other is about to get some very bad news. How can I help, Reverend Mayhew?’

‘You really must call me Miriam, we’re all friends,’ she beamed. ‘Well, since you ask, I’m here about the church winter fete. I’ve started planning, but I just wanted to check that we could use the school halls and gazebos again. Same as last year. End of January.’

‘Yes, of course. Just drop my secretary a note and confirm the date. Let us know what you need.’