Nicola Barker - Love Your Enemies

His hand on her arm was enormously powerful. She said, ‘Go away. Leave us alone. I’m all he’s got. He isn’t doing anybody any harm.’

Bill stared down at her and smiled, ‘How the hell do you know what he wants? Who gave you the right to decide anyway? You think you know what’s for the best but you don’t.’

He let go of her arm and strode into the kitchen. She ran after him. Rasputin was huddled in the corner by his food bowl. His eyes were hooded but he didn’t growl. He was so thin. Bill bent down and picked him up. Rasputin didn’t struggle. Rosemary was amazed. ‘He’s so calm with you. How do you do it?’

Bill smiled. ‘He knows that I want to help him. Do you have a box?’

She moved towards him. ‘Please leave him with me. I’m sure I can make him better.’

He stared at her in silence for a minute or so and then said, ‘Are you very lonely?’

She clenched her fists, furious. ‘Don’t patronize me.’

He grinned, and his face was like the face of an extraordinary animal, a buffalo or a moose. He said, ‘I’m going to kill this cat because it is the kindest thing to do.’

She wanted to cry. ‘You don’t understand …’

He put Rasputin down gently and then stood up straight again. He filled the kitchen. Something about him made her dizzy. An energy was in the room. Rasputin seemed very small and insignificant, like a mouse or a tiny kitten. Bill said, ‘I do understand. I want to show you something.’

He put his hands to his waist and unbuckled his belt. Rosemary gasped. For a moment she thought he was going to hit her with the belt or expose himself. She watched his hands as he undid his buttons and then slid his trousers from his hips.

She could barely believe what she saw. His thighs and legs were completely covered in soft brown fur. He bent down and untied his shoes. He said, ‘I have to adapt my shoes so that they look realistic, as though they are supporting a whole foot instead of just a hoof.’

He removed two large, round, yellowy hooves from his Argyll socks. They made a horsey clip-clopping noise on her tiled floor. She felt uncomfortable but couldn’t resist saying, ‘Do you mind if I feel your fur?’

He shook his head. ‘Feel free.’

She stroked his fur back into place where it had been ruffled by his clothing. He smiled as she stroked him and then said, ‘I bet you want to know the answer to two questions, but you are too afraid to ask.’ He paused. ‘Firstly, how was I produced, from a woman or a goat? Secondly, do I operate effectively in the sexual arena as a man?’

She smiled and blushed slightly. ‘I must admit, I was wondering …’

He grinned. ‘Well, I’m afraid we’ve got more pressing matters to discuss at the moment.’

He nodded towards Rasputin who was lying on his side near a puddle of urine. Rosemary picked up a cloth and ran it under the tap. She said, ‘I’m going to clear this mess up and then I’m going to make us both something to eat and drink.’

Bill shrugged his shoulders, ‘Whatever you say, but remember, I’m a very determined character.’

He picked up the dishcloth and stared at it ruminatively. She caught him just in time, and, snatching it away said, ‘Hang on a minute! I like that dishcloth. I know you goats eat just about anything, but today I want you to have a proper breakfast. We’ve got a lot to discuss.’

Later they ate a delicious meal of eggs, beans and mushrooms and drank mugs of steaming coffee.