Follow Me Home by Cathy Woodman Page A

penned off with crates and boxes.
    â€˜Can’t he go back outside with the others?’ I ask, looking out through the rear window across the lawn where the daffodils are on the verge of flowering, and the buds are beginning to appear on the fruit trees. Beyond, the first batch of lambs are gambolling in the field with their mothers.
    â€˜Murray’s gone soft and said he can stay here as Poppy’s pet until it’s time for him to go off for you-know-what . . .’
    I make Emily sit down with Daisy while I finish the potatoes and bring them to the boil for a few minutes before draining them, scoring the tops and placing them in a tray of hot oil then into the oven. I try not to think about the cute little lamb that Lewis carried in under his arm going off to become some other family’s Sunday roast.
    â€˜What next?’ I ask.
    â€˜Cabbage and carrots, and Yorkshire pudding.’
    I prepare the rest of the main course before countingout the place settings for the table with Poppy. We make it seven, but Emily disagrees.
    â€˜You need one extra, Poppy,’ she says. ‘How many does that make?’
    Poppy counts laboriously on her fingers before coming up with eight.
    â€˜Clever girl,’ Emily says fondly before looking straight at me. ‘Lewis is joining us. He wasn’t doing anything else so I thought, why not? He’s always asking when you’re coming up to the farm so he can hang around and make sheep’s eyes at you, Zara.’
    â€˜He doesn’t?’ A fork thuds against the table as I lose my grip.
    â€˜Why is your face red, Auntie Zara?’ says Poppy.
    â€˜Because it’s getting hot in here.’
    â€˜Oh,’ she says.
    â€˜Emily, this thing about Lewis is in your imagination.’
    â€˜Is it really?’ My sister raises one eyebrow.
    â€˜Well, the other night when he picked up his coat, it felt like he was chatting me up,’ I admit.
    â€˜There you go then.’
    â€˜He’s very outgoing. Flirting seems to come naturally to him . I expect he’s the same with everyone.’
    â€˜Yes, he’s a young lad, but give him a chance,’ Emily sighs.
    â€˜We hardly know each other and yes, he is attractive.’ I’m being economical with the truth here. If he really wanted to start something with me, I don’t think I could resist. In fact, I wouldn’t. ‘But I’m a few years older than him and there’s no way he’ll ever be interested in me.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    I shrug.
    â€˜You’re always putting yourself down. Paul has a lot to answer for. He really rocked your confidence.’
    â€˜He did not.’
    â€˜There you go, defending him again. He could be pretty sharp with you about your looks and your weight. You are beautiful, and it’s time you remembered that. Men like women who like themselves.’ Emily grins. ‘Lecture over. Let the onslaught begin.’
    The onslaught – consisting of Murray, Lewis, and Mum and Dad, who bring Gran with them – begins an hour later when they descend on the kitchen.
    â€˜There’s a seating plan,’ Emily says as Dad carves the joint and I drain the carrots, sending up a cloud of steam, at which my father has to remove his glasses and wipe them on the sleeve of his golf sweater, flashing the gold ring on his little finger at the same time. I don’t ask, but I can’t help wondering if he’s dyed what’s left of his hair – it seems a darker, bluer grey than when I last saw him.
    â€˜Since when?’ Murray walks through from the utility room, leaving brown prints on a white towel as he dries his hands.
    â€˜I thought Gran and Zara would sit on either side of Lewis to mix up the conversation a bit. I don’t want you and him talking sheep all day.’
    â€˜It isn’t every day I get to sit down beside a nice young man,’ Gran pipes up as she rocks Daisy rather violently