Birds Of A Feather Episode 10
Paloma glanced anxiously at the clock on the kitchen wall. Will had been gone for almost three hours.
What was she going to do if he hadn’t come back by milking time? She’d have to persuade Finn to come with her, which could prove challenging.
She felt a glow of satisfaction as she looked around the gleaming kitchen.
She’d enjoyed bringing warmth and order back to this lovely room.
It was a far better way to spend a Sunday than at Folly Farm listening to Vanessa’s stories, while ten-year-old episodes of “Coronation Street” played in the background.
The contents of the old dresser had been washed, dried and then replaced on the freshly polished shelves.
The Aga had been de-greased and its black enamelled top restored to a mirror-like finish. Even the cat’s bowls had been washed and replaced.
She’d made Finn lunch, too. She’d found some bacon in the fridge, added two tins of tomatoes with a few diced vegetables, herbs and some pasta and made what she thought was a passable minestrone soup.
Finn, however, didn’t share that opinion.
“What’s that?” He gave a suspicious frown as she placed a bowl of the steaming soup in front of him.
“Minestrone soup.” Paloma took some for herself and left the rest for Will.
Finn pushed the bowl away.
“I hate that stuff. It’s disgusting. Grandma used to make me spaghetti on toast. Why can’t I have that?”
“Because your dad doesn’t have any spaghetti in his larder. But this has spaghetti in it.”
“I don’t like that sort of spaghetti.”
Paloma sighed.
“You haven’t even tasted it.”
“Don’t need to. I hate it,” he said firmly.
“Then what do you like? I saw some eggs in the fridge. Do you like scrambled eggs?”
“Yuck.”
“Cheese on toast?”
He wrinkled his face.
“Disgus . . .” he began, but stopped abruptly when Paloma banged her spoon on the table.
His blue eyes looked huge behind his glasses as he stared at her in astonishment.
“That’s enough.” She spoke more forcefully than she’d meant to.
She’d worked in a church office long enough to know all about children who didn’t have clean water to drink, let alone enough food to eat. She had no time for children’s fads and fancies.
“It’s minestrone or nothing.”
“Nothing,” he said firmly. “Can I get down now, please?”
“I was going to make pancakes for afters. But I suppose you think they’re disgusting, too.”
She could see the struggle going on in his mind. He obviously didn’t find pancakes disgusting.
“Can I have them with chocolate spread?” he asked.
“You won’t be getting them with anything if you don’t eat your soup first,” she stated.
It worked. The “disgusting” minestrone disappeared with surprising speed, and he even had second helpings.
The pancakes disappeared even faster, particularly once they found the chocolate spread, although there was considerable discussion about the amount needed.
She noticed how Finn’s eyes darkened when he mentioned his grandmother and her heart went out to him. It must have been hard for him to come back to live with the father he barely knew.
“You must miss your grandma very much.” Gently, she touched the back of his hand.
He pulled away, his eyes hard and angry.
He rubbed the back of his hand where she’d touched him on his trousers as if to wipe away any trace of her.
“No, I don’t,” he said fiercely. “Can I go back to the iPad now?”
She sighed and let him go.
She was clearing away the remains of the meal when the kitchen door opened, and Will and the dog came in.
“You’ve been busy,” he said as he looked around the kitchen.
Paloma shrugged.
“I couldn’t sit around twiddling my thumbs, could I? I hope you don’t mind.”
He shook his head, but his expression was so closed it was difficult to tell how he felt.
“How’s the heifer?” she asked.
“She’s fine. It was touch and go for a while, though. It’s a good job Max was there. I can’t tell you how relieved I was that I didn’t have to drag Finn along.
“He’s not too enthusiastic about all things agricultural as it is.
“Hanging around for hours in a muddy field while a heifer goes through a stressful delivery wouldn’t have done anything to change his mind.”
“Probably not.” Paloma stood up to go. “There’s minestrone soup in the bottom oven for you. I managed to persuade Finn to leave you a pancake or two.”
She smiled.
“He told me you didn’t like them.”
A cloud passed across Will’s face.
“He wouldn’t know whether I like them or not,” he admitted bleakly.
Paloma hesitated, afraid of saying the wrong thing. In the end, she decided to say nothing.
She picked up her coat.
“I’d better go. I’ve got to start milking in an hour and have loads to do before then.”
He looked surprised.
“Milking?”
“I look after the goats at Folly Farm. There are only a few at the moment, but we’re planning on building up the herd.”
“But you told me you were looking for a job.”
“No, Mr Gregory. I’m afraid you misunderstood me. I came about the flat above the old granary. Since I moved out of the vicarage –”
“The vicarage? Then you’re . . .”
“Paloma Brookes. Yes. You didn’t give me time to introduce myself before.”
She held her breath, wondering if he’d comment on the last time they met.
He didn’t.