Penny Vincenzi - The Best Of Times

“She seemed very nice,” he said. “Attractive girl, isn’t she? Not William’s usual type. Is there anything still going on, do you think?”

“I really couldn’t say,” said Mrs. Grainger. She had been making bread; she was kneading it now, almost viciously, Mr. Grainger thought.

Abi drove down the track to the lambing shed. Since the time spent in cottage number one, she’d got to know her way round the farm quite well.

It was very dark; she put her lights on full beam. Rabbits ran constantly out onto the track, and she kept stopping, fearful of running over them. William would have found that hugely amusing, she thought; he’d told her how he and his brother had parked the Jeep in the fields at night, turned the lights full on, and then shot the unsuspecting rabbits that were caught petrified in the beam.

It’s so cruel-how could you; they’re so sweet,” she’d said, and he’d said, “Abi, rabbits are total pests; they consume vast quantities of cereal if they’re not kept under control. And they make wonderful stew.”

Other smaller animals ran across her path as well-God knew what they were-and there was a hedgehog, frozen with terror until she turned the lights off and waited patiently while it scuttled away. A large bird suddenly swooped past her windscreen. An owl, she supposed; the first time William had pointed one out, she’d been amazed by how big its wingspan was.

She’d learnt a lot in her time with him.

She reached the shed; the office was at the far end of it, so he wouldn’t have seen her, although he might have heard the car. And probably thought it was his father. She switched the lights off, got out; the quiet was stifling. An owl-maybe the same one-hooted; something scuffled in the hedgerow near her. She reached for her bag-how absurd was that, to take a handbag with her? William was always teasing her about it, but it held her phone and her car keys, easier than carrying them separately. She stepped forward; it was very muddy, and that was- Oh, what! Gross… She’d stepped in a cowpat. She could see it in the light from the shed. A great, round, liquid pile of shit; and her boot, one of her precious new boots from Office-how very inappropriate-sank deep into it. She stood there, staring down at it, and thought it was rather symbolic-of her, also sunk deep into shit.

She eased her foot out and stepped gingerly forward towards the shed, wary of finding another. The cows didn’t usually come this way-it wasn’t their territory; maybe they’d got out of whatever field they were meant to be in. They did that, William had told her; they leaned on the fences endlessly, unless they were electric, all together, usually because they could see some better, more lush grass, with their great solid bulk, and every so often they managed to push them over and wander out. Only… actually, she’d thought they were usually kept inside this time of year, in the cowshed.

She made the door of the shed without further mishap, opened it, looked inside. It was still empty, no lambing going on yet, and very quiet. She closed the door after her and walked, as quietly as she could, down to the other end of the building, towards the outline of light round the door that had William behind it.

When she got there, she was suddenly rather frightened. Suppose he was abusive, started shouting at her. Suppose he actually hit her. She wouldn’t be able to blame him, if he did. Then she thought it would be totally out of his gentle character; and anyway, whatever happened, she couldn’t feel worse. Her sense of nobility from her actions in the court had left her; she just felt miserable and rather foolish.

She opened the door carefully; he was sitting at the desk with his back to her; didn’t even hear her at first. He was engrossed in a pile of forms; then he suddenly thrust them aside and sighed, very heavily, and pushed his hands through his hair.

“Hello,” she said. “Hello, William.”

He swung round; he looked extremely shocked. Not just surprised-shocked. Well, more like horrified, if she was truthful.

“Hello,” she said again.

“Hi.” His voice was dull, flat.

“I… came to find you.”

“As I see.”

“I… wanted to talk to you.”

“I really don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“There is, William.”

“Abi, there is not. I’m so tired of hearing your lies and your excuses and your phony concerns. Just go away, would you? I’m very busy.”

“No. Not till I’ve said what I’ve come to say.”

“I don’t see any point in your saying it. I won’t be able to believe it.”

“You could… try.” She looked down at her boot; it was a hideous sight, the greenish brown cow shit beginning to dry a little, cake round the edges.

“Um… do you have any newspaper or anything? Or maybe I could go into the toilet?”

“What for?”

“I stepped in some cow shit. Outside.”

“Oh, yes?”

He sounded absolutely disinterested. She felt a pang of panic.

“Yes. Actually, I was surprised; I thought you said you were keeping the cows in this time of year?”

“We’re keeping a few out this winter. As an experiment. To see if we can-” He stopped.

“If you can what?”

“Abi, you’re not really interested in cows. Or farming. Or me, come to that. Certainly not me. It’s all a bloody act. I can’t cope with it. Now go and clean up your fucking boot in the lavatory and then go. Please.”

Well, that was pretty final. Pretty clear. She really had blown it this time. She couldn’t imagine getting past this wall of indifference. And dislike. And mistrust. Better go. She’d tried, at least. Given it a go.

She walked through to the loo, pulled off her boot, sat wiping it with the toilet paper, rather feebly and helplessly. She didn’t seem to be able to see properly, and realised that her eyes were filled with tears. God, she was an idiot. Such a stupid, pathetic, hopeless idiot. He must hate her. Really hate her. Well, all she could hope for now was to escape with a bit of dignity. Dignity. Precious little she’d left for herself in the court that day. Saying to them all, “I fancied this man, this married man; I was running after him, actually, and he didn’t want me.” They must have all found it highly amusing.

She stood up again and walked back into the office. William was apparently absorbed in the forms again. He didn’t look round.

“Right,” she said, “well, bye, William, then. I’m… sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, and then suddenly, “Why did you do that today, for Christ’s sake? Why? In front of all those people, in front of me, rubbing my nose in it, telling everyone you… you’d wanted to go on with it, with that… that pile of shit, after what he’d done to you. Are you still in love with him or something? I don’t understand…”

“Oh, God,” she said, “no, of course I’m not in love with him; I loathe him; I’d like to see him strung up by his balls…”

“Well, then-”

“William, it’s so complicated. But I’ve always felt so bad-you know I have-about what I did that night. It’s not her fault, not Laura’s fault. You say I rubbed your nose in it; what did I do to her? And her kids? It was such a ghastly thing to do. And suddenly today, I thought… well, I didn’t exactly think. I just could see how I could put it a bit right. Let her know that her vile, slimy husband-how she can still be with him I don’t know-but anyway, he had wanted to finish it that day. To get rid of me. That it hadn’t still been going on. I just… just… felt I owed it to her. It wasn’t easy,” she added.

“And how do I know that’s true?” he said, and his face was harsh and distorted, a stranger’s face, not kind, gentle William’s at all. “How do I know it wasn’t some kind of a… a bid to get him back? To have him thinking well of you again? You’ve told me so many lies, Abi, about him, about your relationship; how can I be expected to believe anything? And then there was all that shit about how terrible you felt about the child; I had to listen to that, and did I think you should ring him-ring him, for Christ’s sake-you ask me that, and then how scared you were of the inquest today. It was fucking endless. Endless. And you seemed to have no idea at all how much it hurt, how horrible it was for me. It was all about you, you, you. You didn’t seem very scared, incidentally; you seemed very cool and collected. Almost enjoying it, I’d say. Star of the show.”