Part 18 (2/2)

He fiddled with his case and then said, 'I have no right to ask this, but if you could stick with him, Id be quite grateful.

I had a big lump in my throat.

'I know its not easy. Hes not easy ... but youre his last chance. Dont let that ... he suddenly remembered Francesca was my cousin. 'She doesnt want him. She just doesnt want anyone else to have him. It suits her very well to have him on a string and hes wasting his life. Shes wasting his life. He needs to start painting again and hes convinced himself he cant do it without her.

I nodded.

'Told you.

He put his hand on my shoulder, 'And stay away from your aunt. If you need help come to us. Ill hide behind the curtains and send Tanya in to bat for you.

I choked on a laugh.

'Thats better. See you tomorrow.

'Roast beef, I said.

He lifted my hand and kissed it.

'What are you doing? said Russell.

'Roast beef tomorrow.

'Thats no excuse. Go away now.

I went back to look at Marilyn, hardly able to believe the events of the day.

She stood in the middle of her big stall, dwarfed and bewildered. Kevin had put a small pile of straw in the corner for her to sleep on.

'Although actually, we could probably just put her in a dog basket.

'Thank you for looking after her.

'No problem. Shame about our day out. And your coat will never be the same again.

'Ah, well.

She sipped her water and began to hoover up her bedding.

'Look at her eat. Should she be doing that?

'Dont you know?

'Im a horse.

'Well, thats nearly a donkey.

'No, it isnt. Ah, here comes the young master.

Russell wasnt in a good mood. I wasnt sure what the problem was. He halted, fidgeting. 'What did Andrew say?

'Oh, nothing much. Just asked what was for lunch tomorrow and hed see us then.

He scowled and wandered off.

'Interesting.

'What is?

'Nothing. Nothing at all.

Marilyn recovered like a rocket. She trained us not to leave anything lying around because she ate it. She trained us to satisfy her every demand because otherwise she would close her eyes, screw up her face like a kid having a tantrum, expand her lungs, and exceed the legal decibel limit.

Then just when she had caused maximum exasperation or consternation, she would look up at us through her fringe and smile and we were putty in her hands.

Kevin brushed her carefully she had some quite nasty sore patches and she turned out to be a very pretty soft dun colour under all the mud. Her broad head tapered down to a narrow nose and her huge dark eyes peered trustingly out at the world. Her feet were awful, but the farrier said they would improve. He trimmed away and for a few days she could hardly hobble at all. It was pitiful. Andrew shot her some painkillers.

We put her out in the yard for a couple of hours every day. She stuck her head in things that didnt concern her, tried to eat the was.h.i.+ng, was shooed out of the mud room, and pushed her head out through the gate to check out pa.s.sers-by. One of whom was our neighbour, Martin Braithwaite, walking down to the village one day.

'Ah, he said, enlightened. 'A donkey! I must tell Monica. She was convinced someone was being chain-sawed.

'Sorry about that, said Russell, leaning on the gate. 'Little Big Voice.

'Im on my way for a quiet pint. Care to join me?

'Yes, said Russell and slipped through the gate. 'Let me tell you about the trials of donkey owning. You coming, Jenny?

I shook my head. I had something else to do.

He seemed surprised. 'Oh. OK then. Is that because Andrew is coming? Again?

'Maybe. See you later, and I shot off, because Id just seen Kevin disappearing round the corner and I wanted a word.

Thomas seemed amused. 'Oh, Jenny.

'What?

'Nothing.

'Whats nothing?

'Nothing at all. Theres Kevin.

'Hi, Mrs Checkland.

<script>