Page 32 of Once Upon a Thyme
I was lonely.
The knowledge came over me so suddenly that I took half a step back in astonishment, my feet rattling on the gravel until I felt the cushioning of damp moss beneath me.Lonely. It had never occurred to me before, but then I’d never had an irritating man washing up in my kitchen before. I’d never had that chatting over the kitchen table, a figure moving in the light of the swinging bulb indoors while I checked the watering system. It had always been just me. Except for Granny’s last few years, after Mum had moved back to the village, when it had been just me and Granny here, rattling around Drycott. By then she’d been arthritic and mostly confined to the cottage and her chair. I’d worked out here alone and come indoors to a still-warm teapot and Granny upstairs in the room that was now mine, trying to get comfortable and watching eternal repeats ofAll Creatures Great and Smallon the little TV at the end of her bed.
Now my life consisted of just me and my mother. My mother to whom duty tied me as tightly as this bindweed clung to the mallow. Whom I loved and resented and my heart ached with the duality of feelings.
To distract myself – after all, how could I resent a woman who was so ill that she’d had to leave most of the raising of her daughter to her own mother? – I wandered over to the animal barn, creeping quietly through the dark so as not to disturb sleeping rabbits.
Big Pig was on her feet. She’d got her nose under the gate opening and was lifting and dropping the entire gate very gently. I stood in the shadow and watched as she shook the fastening loose, then leaned against the metal of the gate until it swung open. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Big Pig stepped delicately out of her pen and across the barn to the small, fenced area of guinea pig and rabbit. While I watched, she carefully nosed open their gate in the same way and trod down the mesh fencing until it was ground level, allowing a couple of the guinea pigs and an alert rabbit to scamper over, whereupon she briskly opened the main barn gate and led her little band out into the garden.
‘What do you think you are doing?’
My voice made her stop, with a sudden, surprised snort that made her ears flap. I could almost see her thinking, wondering whether she could turn around and head back to her pen and pretend never to have left, to have no piggy idea how to jolt the gates open or how to push down the fencing to let the other animals out. For a moment we stood opposite one another on the path, Big Pig and I, and I restrained the urge to laugh. Itwasn’tZeb letting them out for reasons of his own. It wasn’t Ollie, being unimaginably careless. It wasn’t the band or any of their associated film crew. No human was involved and I couldn’t believe the overwhelming sensation of relief.
‘Get back in that pen,’ I tried. Big Pig remained on the path, eyeing me up, her ears stiffly erect and her tail outstretched, as though she were trying to make herself look bigger which, as she outweighed me about five times, was ridiculous. She didn’t move, despite the two guinea pigs who sprinted between her legs and made a dash for the parsley.
‘Zeb!’ Calling him was all I could think of to do. I daren’t move for fear that Big Pig would take this as licence to run amok around the garden again. We’d only just got the fennel bed straight after last time, and the chewing power of the guinea pigs and the rabbits could do almost as much damage as a rampant sow. ‘Zeb!’
I could hear the sound of running feet on the gravel and Zeb arrived at my elbow. ‘Are you all… oh. I see.’
He’d got his sleeves rolled up and for some reason this made something inside me which had previously been solid, go melty at the edges.
‘We have to get them back. The band need the place to look consistent for filming and if she tramples half the beds they won’t be able to finish the video.’ I kept my voice level and my eyes locked with the little blue orbs of the pig. The tufts on her ears trembled, but otherwise she didn’t move.
‘What do you need me to do?’
‘I don’t want to move. I’m keeping my eye on her and tracking where all the small squeaky beasts are heading, so we can bring them all in. If I go and get the bucket she can rampage around half the garden before I’m back. And she likes you, she’ll follow you back inside.’
Like a hypnosis practitioner and subject, Big Pig and I stood, eyes fixed on one another. I didn’t even turn to look at Zeb.
He took a deep breath. ‘If I get her back in, can I come and work here?’
I broke the porcine-human stare-off. ‘That’s blackmail! She could destroy my business!’
‘But I’m good with her and she’ll follow me. Isn’t that worth it?’
‘Zeb!’
In front of me, Big Pig took a careful, and almost calculated to insult, step forward. I didn’t move but I did quickly work out how much damage I would sustain if she just charged me. She could flatten me on the path and trample over me without even noticing.
‘Zeb!’
Big Pig snorted.
‘Can I come and work here?’
He’d come up beside me now and the pig was looking from me to him and back again. I threw him a desperate look. ‘You’d rather wrangle pigs and muck out barns than carry on working in the clean and indoor world of promotion and finance?’
‘Yes.’ Zeb’s voice was very level. ‘And help plant herbs and learn to make up bouquets and sell things in the shop. To be honest, I’d rather personally hose Big Pig clean every day and polish her little trotters than carry on doing what I have been.’
‘This is still blackmail.’ I chanced a look at him now and Big Pig took advantage of my distracted attention to advance another step. Somewhere behind me, two guinea pigs and a rabbit were playing hide and seek among some caraway in the culinary section. They’d already caused some damage, I could smell the rich, aniseedy scent from crushed stems.
‘I know. But you really could do with another pair of hands.’
‘I’ve got Ollie. Zeb!’ I added his name urgently, as Big Pig, clearly fed up with the ongoing impasse, began to advance slowly towards us, as though playing the world’s worst game of Grandmother’s Footsteps.
‘Ollie’s brilliant at the herbs but he can’t deal with customers. I can. And I’m pretty sure I can look at the figures and work out a way to increase your takings by more than the salary you’d pay me.’
Big Pig had almost reached my knees now and I’d either have to jump aside or risk being ploughed into my own garden.
