Christmas at the Second Chance Chocolate Shop. Kellie Hailes
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and white head bent almost nonchalantly as it munched on grass. ‘She knows we’re here too. Look at those ears, alert as anything. Cheeky little bugger. Right, you go and fetch her.’
‘Me?’ Ritchie took a step back. ‘What do I know about getting cows?’
‘Didn’t you just say you could still surprise me?’ Serena raised an eyebrow. ‘So, go. Surprise me. I’ll meet you in the collecting yard.’
She turned on her heel and marched towards the parlour, leaving Ritchie to eyeball the errant cow. How did one get a cow to do something? Could he apply human logic? There was only one way to find out.
He jogged over to Daisy, who looked up, as if sensing him, and started to mosey further away. Not ideal.
‘Daisy.’ He said the word low and slow, sing-song style. ‘Daaaaaaissssyyyyy.’ He bent down and ripped a hunk of grass from the field.
The beast stopped moving away. Ritchie’s chest deflated in relief. Good, that was a start.
He patted his denim-clad legs. ‘Come here, girl. Come. Come.’
The cow didn’t budge. Okay, so it was his turn to give a little. He took cautious steps towards Daisy, not wanting to spook her.
Her luminous brown eyes appeared to look him up and down. Was it his imagination or did she just bat her eyelashes at him. Ritchie shook his head. Surely not? He must’ve been imagining it. The fresh air must be getting to him.
‘Good girl. Goooood girl.’ He reached the beast and held his hand out. Daisy nibbled at the grass. Ritchie dared to stroke her side and was rewarded with a low moo.
‘Gotta go and get milked, girl. Come with me okay?’ He patted her side, then took a few steps towards the parlour. His heart filling with pride as Daisy followed suit. And they said she could be difficult? They just didn’t know how to handle her.
‘Got her.’ Ritchie called out to Serena as he and Daisy strolled up to the rest of the waiting herd. ‘Wasn’t hard.’
‘Strumpet.’ Serena muttered, giving the cow a friendly pat. ‘A good looking man comes along and you’re putty in his hands.’ She turned from the cow, a good-natured grin on her face and walked up to the entrance. ‘Alright girls, you know the drill.’
Ritchie watched, amazed, as the first batch of cows filed into the parlour in an orderly manner, each stopping beside a set of cups.
‘Don’t just stand there, gawping. Pop the gate across so the girls can’t back out and then come down here into the pit, and I’ll show you what to do.’
Serena beckoned Ritchie down into an area set lower than where the cows were standing and passed him a pair of latex gloves, before twisting round to turn on an old stereo sitting atop a small table.
Ritchie cocked his head to the side as soaring string music filled the room with a familiar tune that sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine. ‘Christmas carols?’
Serena pulled a pair of gloves onto her hands. ‘Classical Christmas carols. The girls enjoy classical music. I guess Mum switched the CD I had in there for a more seasonally appropriate one.’ She brought the palms of her gloved hands together and rubbed them back and forth. ‘Right, first things first. Your first job is to grab a dry wipe, a fresh one for each cow, and clean their teats, starting at the head of the line.’
‘Um, what?’ Ritchie took a step back, his heart skipping a beat. ‘You want me to touch those? Nope. Not going to happen.’
Serena gave an exasperated huff. ‘Fine. Don’t. It’s no skin off my nose. But don’t expect a comfortable stay here. You told Mum you’d help, going back on that promise won’t end well.’
Damn it. Did she have to act so casual? Like she didn’t care one way or the other. Oh, that’s right. She didn’t. Ritchie stared at the teats dangling before him. He could do this. He had to. ‘Fine. I wipe the teats clean. Then what?’
‘Then you check to make sure they’re healthy. If the udder seems swollen, hot or tender, or if the cow has recently recovered from mastitis, then you forestrip and check the milk.’
‘Forestrip? You want me to get naked and check the milk?’ Ritchie’s stomach curdled in suspicion. Was Serena having him on?
‘Bloody hell, Ritchie. That’s gross. Unhygienic too. No, it means you milk the cow a little. This girl’s fine, but I’ll show you how just in case you need to do it.’ She took a teat between her hands and manipulated it so milk shot forth into the bowl she was holding underneath.
Acidic liquid burned its way up his gullet. What the hell was he doing here? Offering to do this? He didn’t know how to milk a cow. He wasn’t interested in touching teats.
‘Now you do it.’ Serena stepped aside. ‘It’s not hard. Just wrap your thumb and forefinger up round the base, then gently squeeze it, but don’t dick around, make it quick.’
‘You don’t expect me to do that.’ Ritchie eyed the bowl Serena was holding out to him. ‘I mean, isn’t it a bit… intrusive.’
Serena paused and closed her eyes with a small shake of her head. ‘This isn’t going to work. You don’t want to do it. And even if you did, Mum can’t leave you up here alone. If there is something wrong with one of the girls you’re not going to know. What the hell was she thinking taking you up on your offer?’
‘Probably hoping it’ll send me home. Get me out of her hair. Out of your lives for good.’ Ritchie eyed the teats. ‘Shows she doesn’t know how determined I am. Move over, I’m going to have a go.’
Serena stepped to the side with a flourish of hand. ‘She’s all yours. Just remember, grip and squeeze. Gentle and quick. That’s the key to it.’
Ritchie took a deep breath, closed his hand around the teat and did as he was told, jumping as the cow bellowed.
‘She senses your nervousness. Pretend she’s your guitar. Pretend you’re an expert. Pretend…’
‘Yeah, yeah, I get it. Fake it ‘til I make it.’ Taking a big, calming breath in, he gripped and squeezed. And just like that a squirt streamed into the cup, and another, and another. Ritchie laughed. ‘It’s working! I’m a natural! That’ll show your mother.’
‘She’ll be furious.’ Serena grinned as she indicated for him to stop. ‘More so when I tell her she’ll have to supervise you to ensure the herd’s health is up to scratch. I won’t have time. Hell, I don’t have time. I shouldn’t even be here.’
‘Maybe that’s part of why she so readily agreed to let me help out.’ Ritchie mused. ‘Maybe she thought you’d feel obliged to help me out, make sure things didn’t go wrong. Maybe she hoped it would make you see sense. See that this is the place you’re meant to be. If that makes sense.’
Serena acted as if he hadn’t spoken as she unhooked the cups set next to the cow. ‘Now after you’ve wiped and checked the cow over, you attach the cluster.’ She demonstrated how then nodded at the line. ‘You do it for the rest of the girls.’
Ritchie took a fresh dry wipe from the dispenser, moved to the next cow, cleaned off the teats, then attached the cups. ‘Was our life together really that bad, Serena? Did you really hate it that much?’
Serena forced herself to meet Ritchie’s eyes. It would be so easy to lie, to say yes, it really was that bad. And while she didn’t want Ritchie here, she also didn’t want to hurt him further. ‘No. Not at all. So much of what we shared was great. Amazing, actually. How many girls from a small village in the middle of nowhere get to lounge about in five-star hotels, walk down red carpets wearing dresses that haven’t even hit the stores, travel the world, visit places they’ve only ever read about…’
‘Remember that time we holidayed in Bora Bora?’ Ritchie’s eyes twinkled as he prepared another cow for milking. ‘Days spent bathing on