Page 11 of One Wild Night
My God, Pat really isn’t joking.
‘What?’ I blurt. ‘You wantusto work on the farm?’
‘Of course,’ Pat says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. ‘You don’t feel like you should be pitching in?’
There is a judgemental twang to his voice. It’s not that I think I’m too good to help, it’s the fact that I’ve never done anhonest day of farm work – or anything remotely close to it – in my life.
‘Yeah, no, okay, we can do that,’ Dylan babbles.
I purse my lips, lest my face give away my thoughts, but I honestly don’t think Dylan has ever had a real job.
‘We have assignments for all of you,’ Pat tells us. ‘And work clothes will be provided. You’ll all be outside but, you, I have a special job for you.’
I am so, so relieved to realise that he isn’t talking to me. He’s talking to Jamie.
‘Me?’ Jamie replies in disbelief.
‘Yes, you,’ Pat says. ‘You look like a big, strong lad. I know just what I’ll do with you.’
I don’t think Pat could sound more sinister if he tried.
‘Okay then,’ Dylan says, clapping his hands. ‘I’m sure we can do anything we can put our minds to, right?’
I narrow my eyes at him. Is he… is he kind of drunk? Oh my gosh, it would be so like Dylan, to have snuck some booze here from the bus. I suppose he thinks it will make all of this go faster. I, on the other hand, would rather have my wits about me.
‘Marvellous,’ Pat replies. ‘We’ll finish up here and then we’ll get to work.’
And just when you think that things can’t get any worse, life find a way to prove you wrong.
Today I will be working on a farm, in a blizzard, in the middle of nowhere, with a bunch of strangers. Still, at least I’m not Jamie. Maybe things can always get worse.
Chapter 6
I’m outside in the freezing snow with Dylan, Mikey and Taz and our job for the day, we’ve been told, is to shovel snow from around a barn door, so that the door can be opened. And, just to make this extra uncomfortable and to give this whole ordeal a pinch of creepy, Pat could not be more explicit in telling us that (despite our job being to clear the doorway so that we could get the door open) we were not to open said door under absolutely any circumstances at all. Dylan, never knowing when to keep his mouth shut, asked Pat why that was, only for Pat to fob us off with some excuse about how there is dangerous machinery in there. I’m not buying it, not for a second, but I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that I don’t care what is behind the door, so long as I don’t have to go in there, and it doesn’t come out here. I just want to get this snow shifted and then sit tight and wait for help to arrive and take us all home.
The snow crunches beneath my boots as I plod around. Every now and then I manage to slip, which is partially to do with the weather, but also because I am wearing working boots that are two sizes too big for me.
With Pat heading off somewhere to do something else it is now just the four of us and the mood feels, surprisingly, much lighter.
‘I can’t believe I’m doing manual labour,’ Mikey blurts in amused disbelief.
‘I know, with those guitarist’s hands,’ Dylan replies. ‘They are your bread and butter. Don’t break a nail.’
‘You just watch yourself,’ Mikey tells him. ‘You seem like you might have had a drink with breakfast so just be careful. And if anything happens to my hands, I’ll sue you for every penny.’
I laugh because I’m almost certain he’s joking.
‘Ah, brotherly love,’ I say with a sigh. ‘Sometimes I’m amazed the two of you have never had a proper falling out.’
‘Well, the day is young,’ Mikey points out. ‘At least, I think it is. I wonder if it ever truly gets light here, or this is just because of the snow.’
‘It does have a creepy, otherworldly vibe here,’ I admit. ‘I’m guessing it’s because of the snow but, who knows?’
‘Come on then, while it’s just us, what’s it like sharing a room with Kitty?’ Dylan asks me in a hushed tone, before turning to Mikey and Taz. ‘She got in my bed last night while I was sleeping. Nicole had to come and rescue me.’
‘Genuinely terrifying, mate,’ Mikey points out.
‘Yeah, so is sharing a room with her,’ I tell them. ‘She has posters of Dylan all over her walls – every inch is covered.’
